IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


// 


&c 


^{y    ^ 


11.25 


lis  12.8 

■30    ^^ 


lit 


U£    12.0 


i: 

ttUu 

U   116 


_Scien£3es 
Carporalion 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRItT 

WnSTIR,N.Y.  UStO 

(716)t72^503 


I^> 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/iCIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  iVIicroreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiquas 


Tachnical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notaa  tachniquaa  at  bibiiograpliiquaa 


Tha 
toth 


Tha  inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
originai  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibiiographicaiiy  uniqua, 
wliich  may  aitar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chaclcaid  balow. 


D 


D 


0 


D 


Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I   Covara  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagAa 

Covara  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastaurAa  at/ou  palliculte 


r~1   Covar  titia  missing/ 


La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

Colourad  maps/ 

Cartas  gtegraphiquas  an  coulaur 

Colourad  ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


nrs   Colourad  platas  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planchaa  at/ou  illuatrations  an  coulaur 

Bound  with  othar  matarial/ 
RaiiA  avac  d'autras  documants 

Tight  binding  may  cauaa  ahadowa  or  distortion 
along  intarior  margin/ 

Laraliura  sarrte  paut  cauaar  da  I'ombra  ou  da  la 
diatortion  la  long  da  la  marga  IntMaura 

Blank  laavaa  addad  during  rastoration  may 
appaar  within  tha  taxt.  Whanavar  possibia,  thaaa 
hava  baan  omittad  from  filming/ 
II  sa  paut  qua  cartainaa  pagaa  blanchaa  ajoutAaa 
lors  d'una  rastauration  apparaissant  dana  la  taxta, 
mais,  loraqua  cala  Atait  poaaibia,  caa  pagaa  n'ont 
pas  4t«  film«aa. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  la  maillaur  axamplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  At*  possibia  da  aa  procurar.  Las  details 
da  cat  axamplaira  qui  sont  paut-Atra  uniquas  du 
point  da  vua  bibliographiqua.  qui  pauvant  modif iar 
una  imaga  raproduita,  ou  qui  pauvant  axigar  una 
modification  dana  la  mAthoda  normala  da  filmaga 
sont  indiqute  ci-daaaoua. 


D 
D 
D 
0 
0 
0 
O 
O 
D 
O 


Colourad  pagaa/ 
Pagaa  da  coulaur 

Pagaa  damagad/ 
Pagaa  andommagiaa 

Pagaa  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Pagaa  rastauriaa  at/ou  palliculAas 

Pagaa  diacolourad,  atainad  or  foxad/ 
Pagaa  dteolortes.  tachattea  ou  piquAas 

Pagaa  datachad/ 
Pagaa  dAtach^aa 

Showthrough/ 
Tranaparanca 

Quality  of  print  variaa/ 
Quality  inAgala  da  I'lmpraaaion 

Includaa  supplamantary  matarial/ 
Comprand  du  matMal  suppl^mantaira 

Only  adMon  availaMa/ 
Saula  MMon  diaponlbia 

Pagaa  wholly  or  partially  obacurad  by  arrata 
slips,  tissuaa,  ate.,  hava  baan  rafilmad  to 
anaura  tha  baat  poaalbia  imaga/ 
Las  pagaa  totalamant  ou  partiallamant 
obscurciaa  par  un  fauiUat  d'arrata,  una  palura, 
ate.,  ont  4t*  filmiaa  i  nouvaau  da  fapon  k 
obtanir  la  maillaura  Imaga  poaalbia. 


Tha 
posi 
oft! 
filml 


Orig 
bagi 
thai 
sion 
otha 
first 
sion 
or  ill 


Tha 
shal 
TINI 
whi( 

Map 
diff« 
anti 
bagI 
righ 
raqi 
mat 


0   Additional  commanta:/ 
Commantairaa  aupplimantairaa: 


Various  pagingi. 


Thia  itam  la  fllmad  at  tha  raduction  ratio  chackad  balow/ 

Ca  doGumant  aat  film*  au  taux  da  rMuction  indiqui  ci-daaaoua. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


2BX 


30X 


y 

3 

12X 


ItX 


2DX 


a«x 


32X 


lire 

details 
u«s  du 
:  modifier 
gar  una 
I  fiimaga 


Tha  copy  filmad  liara  has  baan  raproduead  tlianica 
to  tlia  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


Tha  imagaa  appearing  hara  ara  tlia  baat  quaiity 
poaaibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  legibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  In  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  tpacif Icationa. 


L'axemplaire  film*  fut  reproduit  grice  A  la 
gAn^roait*  da: 

BIbliothAque  nationala  du  Canada 


Lea  imagaa  auivantea  ont  M  reproduitea  avac  la 
plua  grand  aoin,  compta  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattet*  de  rexemplaira  filmA,  et  en 
conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
fiimagii. 


jAea 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covera  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  iaat  page  with  a  printed  or  iiiuatratad  imprea- 
aion,  or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  iiiuatratad  impraa- 
slon,  and  ending  on  the  Iaat  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  Impression. 


Les  en  •mplairea  orlglnaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
par''>r  est  imprimte  sont  fllmte  en  commenQant 
^r  la  premier  plat  at  an  tarmlnant  salt  par  la 
darnlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impression  ou  d'lllustratlon,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  aaion  le  cas.  Tous  las  autres  axempialras 
orlglnaux  sont  f  ilmte  an  commanpant  par  la 
pramidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impreaaion  ou  d'lllustratlon  et  en  terminant  par 
la  darnidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
ahall  contain  tha  symbol  — ^>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  dea  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
darniAre  Image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
caa:  la  symbols  — »*  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


lire 


IMapa.  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  retios.  Those  too  lerge  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ara  filmad 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  framea  aa 
required.  The  following  diegrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableeux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  A  das  taux  da  reduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  aaui  clichA.  II  eat  film*  A  partir 
da  I'angle  supArleur  gauche,  de  gauche  h  droite, 
et  de  haut  an  bas,  en  prenent  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcesssire.  Les  diegrammea  suivants 
illustrant  la  mAthoda. 


»y  errata 
ad  to 

»nt 

ina  palure, 

■9on  A 


1  2  3 


32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

mi 


^^ 


"•a-i  '  »■       — • 


-*• 


#" 


rf-'     life's 


% 


'i^ 


^tr  -"*t 


*« 


^^'^.n'^_ 


■  '"-.• 


MYSTisrEs  i0ii  qewBM. 


••*, 


^ 


■■»■ 


■m^  i 


# 


♦*" 


>,_     ^.!^ 


/ 


f 


'lilii^ 

':*?'' 

1 

■■' ' '  m 

> 

>  »JtM 

• 

■  -^ 

ll^^rii 

fljj*     '  '  j-w" 

^K^i-  -UhJO^^^^^H 

^R  ■  ii 

■^^•- 

■ 

'■^-""    M 

M  f 

J 

'^        JBw 

jHB 

?Hi .'»_ 

iitf 

t"     ^ 

''■'*-■     T 

\SL    . 

si'  "l 

^^^                         % 

^H| 

^^B  i  ^^iH 

i^ 

^^^^^Ci 

^ 

^^B^L^"^ 

ii 

'■■■'•'1              r'i 

J 

0                                     1 

fli^:  *        ( 

( 

ri    .  '!' 

I 

•"m    :    I 

*^ — .. 

ft 

THS 


AWFUL  DISCLOSURES 


on 


ARIA  MONK, 


V"' 


AimTHB 


ISTERIES  OF  A 


■m 


PHILADBLPHU : 

t.  B.  rarXBSOKy  IOI9  OHUlTKVT 


^ 


I  "WMT'' 


03127 


i?*»" 


A 


■m  *^ 


1# 


V 


.    A 


Preface. 


1  It  If  to  be  hoped  that  the  reader  of  the  eneaing  namillff 
[will  not  suppose  that  it  is  a  fiction,  or  that  the  soenea  and 
irsoni  that  I  have  delineated,  had  not  a  real  existeoee.  It 
also  desired,  thst  the  author  of  thia  Tolnme  may  be  M^ 
led  not  asaTolantary  i>artidpator  in  the  wmfjp!0llst 
isaetions  which  are  described ;  out  receive  eyiniNCfkJK 
le  trials  which  she  has  endured,  and  the  pecallar  " 
i  which  her  past  ezpeHefice,  and  escape  from  Uhb  , .  „  _ 
le  Superior  of  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nnnnery,  at  Mcntimii 
le  snares  of  the  Roman  Priests  in  Canada.  haTeleitl|er« 
My  feelings  are  freonently  distressed  and  agitated  if '" 
icoilection  of  what  I  have  passed  througli ;  and  by  ntt. 
id  by  day  I  have  little  peace  of  mind,  and  few  periods 
Im  and  pleasing  reflection.    Futurity  also  appeam  uficev* 
I  know  not  what  reception  this  little  work  may  mw 
and  what  will  be  tiie  effect  of  its  publication  amov 
nada,  among  strangers,  friends,  or  enemiea.     thi^ 
the  world  the  truth,  so  flur  as  I  nave  gone,  on  tiihllQii 
rhich  I  am  told  they  are  generally  ignorant;  andrlMl 
^  Kst  confidence,  that  any  fkcts  which  may  yet  be  dlaoove^i 
rill  confirm  my  words  whenever  they  ean  be  obti ' 
)ver  shall  explore  the  Hotel  BImt  Knniieryat 
will  find  unquestionable  evidence  ihaiUie  deaori 
interior  of  that  ediliccL  given  t&  tliia  bodk,  ^ 
'  by  one  fkmillar  with  tnem  i  for  wlmleivlNr  all 
ft  attempted,  there  are  dhasgea  wlililiillo 
jter  can  make  and  eflBsctually  conceal  i  and  «« 
muat  be  plentiful  evidence  in  tiiat  InnlMiQiif 
of  my  description* 

I  are  living  wttaeasaa,  alao^  who  ovihtto 
without  fear  of  penaacoa,  tortweib  tad 
r  ihelrtesttaiMiyataoitief^fore  timew  mi^  1 
inn  mf  ataliiiiiiila     Theie  are  wmmmt 


"SI 


. -•*».■ 


'Svi-li 


-^'     K^U 


m 


,>L..*-1 


.i, 


.  -w  >  ■  '.'      J.  ^» 


Freboa 


ri->' 


milly?4ototetM  at  Ittwrtf;  or  rather  there  iMfii.  Are 
wmf  wmng  now  t  or  will  they  bo  permitted  to  Uto  aftor  the 
fliiito  and  Soperiore  here  eeen  this  book?  Peirhepe  the 
wietehed  nant  m  the  cells  have  alreftdv  saffered  for  my  sake 
— forhape  Jane  Bav  has  been  silenced  for  ever,  or  will  be 
mrderedt  before  she  has  time  to  add  her  most  important 
teettmony  to  mine. 

BqI  epcodT  death  in  relation  only  to  this  world,  can  be  no 
fieai  calamity  to  those  who  lead  the  life  of  a  nun.  The  mere 
reeolleetion  of  it  alwuvs  makes  me  miserable.  It  would  di*- 
tiess  the  reader,  should  I  repeat  the  dreama  with  which  I 
im  <i|len  terrified  at  night ;  for  I  sometimes  fancy  myself 
pnrsiied  by  the  worst  enemies  t  fhKinetiUy  I  seem  as  if  again 
shttt  Qpin  the  Convent ;  often  I  imagine  myself  present  st 
|he  repetition  of  the  worst  scenes  that  I  have  hinted  at  oi* 
deaorioed.  8ometl(nes  I  stand  by  the  secret  place  of  inter- 
ment in  the  oellar ;  aometimes  I  think  I  can  hear  the  sbriekii 
of  the  helpless  fbmales  in  the  hands  of  atrocious  men ;  and 
iOmetlmea  almost  seem  actually  to  look  again  upon  the 
aita  and  placid  features  of  St.  Frances,  as  ahe  appeared 
#hea  anrrounded  by  her  mnrderers. 

i  eannot  bsAish  the  scenes  and  character  of  this  book  flrom 
mx;|ttemf>ry.  To  me  it  can  never  app  ar  like  an  amusing 
fliwe.  or  loss  its  interest  and  importance.  Tlie  storr  is  one 
whIdD  is  continually  befoie  me,  and  must  return  frsMi  to  my 
mind,  with  painful  emotions,  as  long  as  I  live.  With  time, 
and  OiristiSkn  instruction,  and  the  sympathy  and  examples 
of  te  win  and  good,  I  hope  to  learn  submissively  to  bear 
whatever  tHide  are  appointed  me,  and  to  improve  under 
mm  all. 

^Ifiapressed  as  I  eontinvally  am  with  the  firlghtfhl  realty 
alllie  painftil  eommnpieations  that  I  have  made  in  this  v^ 
Inaiek  I  can  only  ollhr  to  all  persons  who  may  doubt  or  d^ 
bsttevie  my  stateihents,  these  two  thin  s  :— 

Twltnt  me  to  gothronah  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nunnervat  Moa* 
tMl^  adtti  eoMoiinpartial  hMlieA  and  gentlemen,  that  thej 
wtgf  eompare  mi  aoconnt  with  the  interior  parts  of  tte 
kiBdf^,  into  whl^  no  peraons  but  the  Roman  iBishop  S4ld 
'  eve  ever  admitted;  and  if  they  do  not  tod  my  da* 
a  true,  tiien  discard  me  as  an  ImposloCfe  Bring  ila 
%OOBrtOiJu8tioo— there  I  am  wiUinjpH^eet  Jafar* 
PAstofi,  Bamin^  and  MMmih  and  tiiaif 
i#ith  the  Superior,  Midai^  irf  the  ii«Bi| 


T'     ♦  ■ 


JWSf 


JMI,  Joimary  llf  M6. 


>m. 


ST-*  ap'      \,f    V 


AWFUL  DISCLOSTJEES 


OP 


MARIA  MONK. 


CHAPTEB  I. 


SABLY  BEOOLLEOSXOini. 

Early  life— Religious  Edacaiion  negleetad— FIftI 
i'*^  trance  into  the  School  of  the  CongregatioiMl  Ni 
— Biief  Account  of  the  Nunneries  in  Xoi 
Congrefiratioual  Nunnerr— The  Black  Nunn 
Grey  Nunnery— Puhlio  Itespect  for  these  1 
Instructions  received— The  Catechism-- ThfJI^It, 

.Mt  parents  were  both  from  Scotland,  but 
resident  in  Lower  Canada  some  time  before  Uidur 
[marriage,  which  took  place  in  Montreal,  and  in  that 
[dty  I  baTe  spent  most  of  my  life.  I  was  born  §&  8l» 
Tohn*s,  where  they  lived  for  a  short  time.     My  fa* 

ler  was  an  officer  under  the  British  Goveriimeuli 

id  my  mother  has  enjoyed  a  pension  onthAlao- 

mnt  ever  since  his  death. 

Aeoorditiff  to  my  earliest  recollections,  he  was  9kU 
tenUve  to  bis  familv,  and  bad  a  peculiar  Pii<|gi 
[{from  the  Bible,  whicb  often  occurred  to  me  in 
lifs.  I  may  Terv  probably  have  been  til 
•iifter  Ms  culth  I  did  not  recoUeot  to" 
any  iiietn|l|tpa  at  home,  and  wat  nof  avMl 
[Lroiq^i^  tojMWtbeBotiptuiee;  my  mottier,  al* 


9  AWFinCi  PMWtiiPBK 

llioiigli  ooniiiiilly  a  FrotesUnt^not  being  aoeatlooi- 
•d  to  pay  atteotion  to  h<ur  children.  8he  was  rather 
indued  to  think  well  of  the  Oatholios,  and  often  at- 
tended their  churches.  To  my  want  of  religious  in« 
elnnilion  at  home,  and  the  ignorance  of  my  Creator 
aa^  my  duty,  which  was  its  natural  effect,  I  think  I 
eea  traoe  my  introduction  to  convents,  and  the  scenes 
which  I  Itm  to  describe  in  the  following  narrative. 

When  about  six  or  seven  years  of  age,  I  went  to 
•ehdol  to  a  Mr.  Workman,  a  Protestant,  who  taught 
In  SAereinent  street,  and  remained  several  months, 
nise  I  learned  to  read  and  write,  and  arithmetic  as 
Inraa  division.  All  the  progress  I  ever  made  in 
rihoie  bvanehea  was  gained  in  that  school,  as  I  have 
iMmrtt  improved  in  any  of  them  since. 

▲  nnmoerof  girls  of  my  acquaintance  went  to 
sailQ6l  to  the  nuus  of  the  Congregational  Nunnery, 
car  SM^rs  of  Charity,  as  they  are  sometimes  called. 
Vha  aehools  taught  by  them  are  perhaps  more  nu- 
aieilwii  than  some  of  my  readers  may  imagine. 
Haiiaare  sent  out  from  that  convent  to  many  of  the 
UmmB  and  villages  of  Canada  to  teach  small  schools ; 
atid^iosae  of  them  are  established  as  instructresses  In 
^ifsffei^arts  of  the  United  States.  When  I  was 
akmit  wn  years  old,  my  mother  asked  me  one  day  if 
I  slioiild  not  like  to  learn  to  read  and  write  French, 
aad  then  I  began  to  think  seriously  of  attendinsr  the 
sebOQ|i  in  the  Congregational  Nunnery.  I  had  al- 
ready some  acquaiiitance  with  that  language,  sufii- 
oltnt  to  speak  it  a  little,  as  I  heard  it  every  day,  and 
my  m^er  knew  something  of  it. 

T  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  my  first  entranoe 
ialatiie  Nunnery;  and  the  day  was  an  important 
mmta  my  life,  as  on  it  commenced  mv  aequalntanee 
wllii  a  ecmvent.  I  was  oonductedby  some  of  my 
y^wigWands  along  NotreBama  (iraet,  i^  wa  latoh- 
aitlMiiata.  Entering  thi|,j|l^valkaa  sam  A^ 
lipi»  doof  ttie  a^e  of  a  baWw 
mMw  naelMd  adooi^  liiViNi^  ruogabelL 


'WW  • 


ov  w^mx  uimu 


9 


lis  was  foon  op«ied,  and  enteriof,  wo  proceeded 

irpagh  a  long  ooTered  passage  till  we  took  a  short 
kurb  to  the  left,  soon  after  which  we  reached  the  door 
>l  the  school-room.    On  my  eutraiice,  the  Superior 

let  me,  and  told  me  first  of  all  that  I  must  dip  my 
Ingers  into  the  holy  water  at  her  door,  cross  myself^ 

ad  say  a  short  prayer ;  and  this  she  told  me  was  al- 
ways required  of  Protestant  as  well  as  Catholic  cbil- 
iren. 

There  were  about  fifty  girls  in  the  school,  aud  the 
luns  professed  to  teach  eomethiuff  of  reading,  writ- 

ig,  arithmetic,  and  geography.  The  methods,  how- 
ever, were  very  imperfect,  and  little  attention  was 
leToted  to  them,  the  time  being  in  a  great  degreir 
mgroseed  with  lessons  in  needle-work,  which  was 

)riFormed  with  much  skill.  The  nuns  had  no  very 
regular  parts  assigned  them  in  the  management  of 
the  schools.  They  were  rather  rough  and  unpotish* 
id  in  their  manners,  often  exclaiming,  '^G'est  tin 

kciiti,"  (that's  a  lie,)  and  "  mon  Dieu,''  Qny  Qod^} 
>n  the  most  trivial  occasions.  Xbeir  writing  was 
luite  poor,  and  it  was  not  uncommon  for  them  to 
»ut  a  capital  letter  in  the  middte  of ,  a  word.  The 
>nly  book  of  geography  which  we  studi^L was  a 

ttechism  of  geography,  from  which  we  iBirnt  by 
leart  a  few  questions  and  answers.  We  were  some« 
^imes  referred  to  a  map,  but  it  was  only  to  point  out 
~  Tontreal  or  Quebec,  or  some  oth^  prominent  name, 

rhile  we  had  no  instruction  beyonf . 

It  may  be  necessary,  for  the  in&rmation  of  some 
^f  my  readers,  to  mention,  that  there  are  three  dis« 
Inct  Convents  in  Montreal,  all  of  different  kinds  ^ 

lat  is,  founded  on  different  plans,  and  governed  by 
IMerent  rules.    Their  names  are  as  follows:— 

1.  The  Congregational  Nunnery.  - 

2.  The  Black  Nunnery^  or  Convent  of  Sister  Bour* 

;1>  «ili  Qfey  STniinery. 

Ths  flrit  #tiii||^rnTlsses  lo  hp  devoted  mitbely 


te 


AWITO  IfflMBMRnSB 


to  ih%  edneation  of  gf rit.  It  would  feqiilroi  liow« 
«T«r»  only  a  proper  ezamitiation  to  proTO,  that  with 
the  exception  of  needle- work,  hardly  anytldng  ia 
tftnght  excepting  prayer  and  cateohiim ;  the  ina^o* , 
tion  in  readinfr*  writing,  fto.,  in  fact,  amonnting  to 
rery  little,  and  often  to  nothing.  This  ConTont  it 
adjacent  to  the  next  to  he  spoken  of.  heing  separated  ^\ 
from  it  only  hy  a  wall.  The  second  professes  to  he 
a  charitahle  institution  for  the  care  of  the  sick,  and 
the  supply  of  hread  and  medicines  for  the  poor ;  and 
aomething  is  done  in  these  departments  of  charity, 
althongh  hut  an  insignificant  amount  compared  wiUi ' 
the  size  of  the  huiUUugs,  and  the  number  of  inmatea. 
^  The  Grey  Nunnery,  which  is  situ n ted  in  a  distant 
fmrt  of  the  city,  is  also  a  large  edifice,  containing 
nepartmenta  for  the  care  of  insane  persona  and 
foundlings.  With  this,  however,  I  have  less  perw 
aonal  acquaintance  than  with  either  of  the  others.  I 
have  often  seen  two  of  the  Grey  nuns,  and  know 
their  rules,  as  well  as  those  of  the  Congregational 
Nunnery;  they  do  not  confine  them  always  within 
thdr  walls,  like  those  of  the  Black  Nunneiy.  These 
twoOonTcnts  have  their  common  names  (BInck  and 
GreylJpm  the  colours  of  the  dresses  worn  by  their 

In  all  these  three  Conyents  there  are  certain  apart* 
neuts  into  wMch  strangers  can  gain  admittance,  but 
others  from  which  they  are  always  excluded.  In  all, 
large  quantities  of  yarious  omnments  are  made  hy 
the  nnns,  which  are  exfK>sed  for  sale  in  the  OmO' 
meni  Roams,  and  afford  large  pecuniary  receipts 
eyery  year,  which  contribute  much  to  their  inoome. 
In  these  rooms,  visitors  often  purchase  such  things 
at  pleaae  them,  from  some  of  the  old  and  oonfidw- 
m^mins  who  have  the  charge  of  them.  ^^ 

Vrom  all  that  appears  to  the  publie  eye,  tiie  mnia 
oltlieee  Convents  are  deyoted  lo^e  diaiilali#«V- 
htit  iMropriated  to  each,  the  labour  of  makliig  W- 
f^ml  arti^ee  ksowu  to  litniMiafltiifid  by  ^mit 


Of  ILUOA.  xoint. 


U 


id  the  Mllfiioiu  obiervancM,  whioh  ooeapv  ft  large 
rtion  el  their  time.  They  are  regarded  with  mach 
ipect  by  the  people  at  large;  and  now  and  then 

rhen  a  notice  takes  the  Yeil,  she  is  supposed  to  re- 
itorn  the  temptations  and  trouble  ox  this  world 

ito  a  state  of  holy  seclusion,  where,  by  prayer,  self- 

lortification,  and  good  deeds,  she  prepares  herself 
ror  heaven.  Sometimes  the  Superior  of  a  Convent 
>btains  the  character  of  working  miracles:    and 

rhen  such  an  one  dies,  it  is  published  through  the 
country,  and  crowds  throng  the  Convent,  who  think 

idulgeuces  are  to  be  derived  from  bits  of  her  clothes 
md  other  things  she  has  possessed ;  and  many  have 
lent  articles  to  be  touched  to  her  bed  or  chair,  iu 

rhich  a  degree  of  virtue  is  thought  to  remain.  I  used 

participate  in  such  ideas  and  feelings,  and  began 

>y  degrees  to  look  upon  a  nun  as  the  happiest  of  wo* 

len,  and  a  Convent  as  the  most  peaceful,  holy, -and 
^lelightful  place  of  abode.  It  is  true,  some  pains 
vere  taken  to  impress  such  views  upon  me.  ,  JSome 
^f  the  priests  of  the  Seminary  often  visited  the?t)on« 
»regationai  Nunnery,  and  both  catechised  and  talk- 
ed with  us  on  reU;;ion.  The  Superior  of  the  Black 
Tunnery  adjoining,  also,  occasionally  came  into  the 

shool,  and  enlarged  on  the  advanta«;e  we  iojoyed 
|n  having  such  teachers,  and  dropped  something  now 
ind  then  relating  to  her  own  convent,  calculated  to 

lake  us  entertain  the  highest  ideas  of  it,  and  make 
IS  sometimes  think  of  the  possibility  of  getting  into  it. 

Among  the  instructions  given  to  us  by  the  priests, 

>me  of  the  most  pointed  were  directea  against  the 
/rotestant  Bible.  They  often  enlarged  upon  the 
iivil  tendency  of  that  book,  and  told  us  that  but  for 

many  a  soul  condemned  to  bell,  and  6u£Fering  eter- 
|al  punishment,  might  have   been  in  happiness. 

lev  oould  not  say  anything  in  ii/i  favour ;  for  that 
I  be^^eaking  a|aiust  religion  and  against  Ood. 
wamed  ne  against  its  woe»  and  represented  ii». 

\  a'lhfaif  ff^f'.dangerona  to  onr  souls*     In  confir* 


:4^4ri&^ 


of  fhii,  they  would  repeat  gome  of  tlie  en^ 
•wen  teeght  ut  mt  eateobinn ;  a  few  of  which  I  will 
here  cife.  We  had  little  eatechitmt,  (''  Let  Petitt 
Oateohiemee")  put  iuto  our  hauds  to  study ;  but  the 
priesti  1000  began  to  teaoh  as  a  new  set  of  answers, 
whioh  were  not  to  be  found  in  our  books,  from  some 
of  which  I  haTe  received  new  ideas,  and  i^ot,  as  I 
thought,  important  light  on  relijcious  subjects,  wbic!t 
ooofirmed  me  more  iu  my  belief  in  the  Koman  Ca- 
tholic doctrines.  Those  questions  and  answers  I  cau 
atill  recall  with  tolerable  accuracy,  and  some  of  them 
I  will  add  here.  I  never  have  read  them,  as  we  were 
taught  them  only  by  word  of  mouth. 

^  Question*  Porquoi  le  bon  Dieu  n*a  pas  fait  tous 
lee  eommandemeus  P" — ^^Meimonse,  ]Paroe  que  i* 
homme  n'est  pas  si  fort  qu'if  pent  garder  tout  ses 
eommandemens.'* 

^'Ofiesiion*  Why  did  not  Gk)d  make  all  the  com- 
mandments P** — '*  Answer.  Because  mau  it  not 
strong  enough  to  keep  them.^ 
'  And  another :  *'  Q.  Porquoi  Thomme  ne  lit  pas  l* 
ETaiigileP"— '^il.  Parce  que  Tesprit  de  rhommee^t 
trop  borne  et  trop  faible  pour  comprendre  qu'est  ce 
que  Dieu  a  ^crit.'' 

**  Q.  Why  are  men  not  to  read  the  New  Testa- 
roenlP**— ^  A.  Because  the  mind  of  roan  is  too  limit- 
ed and  weak  to  understand  what  Gk>d  has  written. " 

These  questions  and  answers  are  nut  to  be  found 
in  the  common  catechisms  in  use  in  Montreal  and 
other  places  where  I  have  been,  but  all  the  children 
fai  the  Congregational  Nunnery  were  taught  them, 
and  many  more  not  found  in  those  books. 


CHAPTER  n. 

OCmOKEQATlOVJLL  KUHKEET. 

Stoiy  told  by  a  Fellow  Pupil  sgainsta  Priest  «>Other  Stories 
— Prrtty  Maiy-'OonliMS  to  iktlisr  Biduurds— My  mibte- 
sniSBt  oopftssinn  i  InstnMHftnff  la  the  mstscihiim 

Xkai  waa  a  gill  tUrteett  year*  Md  whooi  I  knew 


■#^. 


dt  ICABU  MOtnL 


IS 


fb^  tobooly  who  reaided  iu  tlie  neij^bonrhood  of 
ly  mother,  and  with  whom  I  had  beeu  familiar. 
Ihe  told  me  one  day  at  lohool,  of  the  oondnot  of  a 
>rie8t  with  her  at  confession,  at  which  I  was  aston- 
ihed.  It  was  of  so  criminal  and  shameful  a  nature, 
could  hardly  believe  it,  and  yet  I  had  so  much  C3a- 
Idenoe  that  she  spoke  the  truth,  that  I  could  not 
discredit  it. 

8he  was  partly  persuaded  by  the  priest  to  belicTe 

le  could  not  sin,  because  he  was  a  priest,  and  that 

mythitig  he  did  to  her  would  sanctify  her;  and  yet 

khe  seemed  somewhat  doubtful  how  she  should  act. 

priest,  she  had  beeu  told  by  him,  is  a  holy  man, 

md  appointed  to  a  holy  office,  and  therefore  what 

rould  be  wicked  in  other  men,  could  not  be  so  in 

lim.  She  told  me  she  had  informed  her  mother  of  it, 

rho  expressed  no  anger  nor  disapprobation;  but 

Idly  enjoined  it  upon  her  not  to  speak  of  it;  and  re* 

larked  to  her,  as  priests  were  not  like  men,  but 

loly,  and  sent  to  instruct  and  saye  us,  whatcTor  they 

lid  was  right. 

I  afterwards  confessed  to  the  priest  that  I  had 

teard  the  story,  and  had  a  penance  to  perform  for 

ndulging  a  sinful  curiosity  in  making  inquiriea; 

Liid  the  girl  had  another  for  communicating  it^  I 

Afterwards  learnt  that  other  children  had  been  tiW^ 

I  in  the  same  manner,  and  also  of  similar  prooeetia^ 

Indeed  it  was  not  long  before  such  language  Ma 

ised  to  me,  and  I  well  remember  how  my  yrmnii 

pght  and  wrong  were  shaken  by  it.    Another  gkl 

\  the  school,  from  a  place  above  Montreal,  called 

le  Lac,  told  me  the  following  story  of  what  had  oe« 

irred  recently  in  that  vicinity.    A  young  squawi 

lied  La  Belle  Marie,  (pretty  Mary,)  had  been  seen 

'   { to  eonfesdon  at  the  house  of  the  priest,  who 

a  little  out  of  tha  village.    La  Belle  Maile  was 

iraida  miseed,  and^bar  murdered  bo49r  was 

»mid  in  Um  livwr.    JL  Imile  waa  alio  found  bearinir 

pimUfB  naom.     Oreat-  indigiMion  WMwmcmi 


m 


ti^ 


14 


▲wVuft  iMoaLOSOBflB 


MMmg  the  Indiana,  and  iha  priest  immadialaly  ab- 
aaonded,  and  was  never  heard  from.  A  note  was 
ftmnd  on  hia  table  addressed  to  him,  t^ng  Idm  to 
tjt  if  he  was  guilt  v. 

It  was  8opiK>8eathat  the  priest  was  fearfnlthat 
Ida  oondact  might  be  betrayea  by  this  yonog  female ; 
and  be  undertook  to  clear  himself  by  killing  her. 

These  stories  struck  me  with  surprise  at  Brat,  but 
1  gradually  began  to  feel  differentl^ri  even  supposing 
lliem  true,  and  to  look  upon  the  priests  as  men  in- 
aapabla  of  sin ;  besides,  when  I  first  went  to  confess, 
wbkb  I  did  to  Father  Bichards  in  the  old  French 
^BWdi,  since  taken  down,  I  beard  nothing  impro- 
Mr ;  and  it  was  not  until  I  had  been  several  tunes 
ibat  the  priests  became  more  and  more  bold,  and 
ware  at  lensth  indecent  iu  their  ouestions,  and  even 
in  their  conduct  when  I  confessed  to  them  in  the  Sa- 
eristie.  This  subject,  I  believe,  is  not  understood 
nor  anapected  among  Protestants ;  and  it  ia  not  my 
intention  to  speak  of  it  very  particularly,  because  it 
ia  impossible  to  do  so  without  saying  things  botii 
shameful  and  demoralizing. 

I  will  only  say  here,  that  when  quite  a  child,  I 
beard  from  the  mouths  of  the  priests  at  confession 
what  I  cannot  repeat,  with  treatment  correspond- 
M^l  and  several  females  in  Oanada  have  assured  me 
tiiat  they  have  repeatedlv,  and  indeed  regularly, 
baan  roqmred  to  answer  the  same  and  other  tike 
fuastious,  many  of  which  present  to  the  mind  deeds 
iHiiab  the  most  iniquitous  and  corrupt  heart  co^d 
Ittrdly  invent. 

Thm  was  a  frequent  change  of  teachera  in  fbe 
asbool  of  the  Nunnery|  and  no  regular  system  was 
pursued  in  our  instruction.  There  were  many  nuns 
who  name  and  went  while  I  waa  there,  being  f  re- 
fuaatty  called  in  and  out  without  any  peroiqptible 
Tb^  mpjfij  school  teadierato  many  of  the 


oountnr  towii%  usually  two  to  aaoh  of  the  lowna 
1^  wiiiob  I  waa  aoqnaiBtaai  basidea  aandinf  flislers 


Of  loUA  urnxm. 


U 


Ohtrity  to  many  parts  of  the  United  States, 
loog  those  whom  I  saw  most  was  Saint  Patriok, 
old  woman  for  a  nvLu^  that  is  about  f orty,  very  ig« 

>rant  and  gross  in  her  manners,  with  quite  a  beard 

her  face,. and  very  cross  and  disagreeable.    She 

sometimes  our  teacher  in^sewing,  and  was  ap« 

>inted  to  keep  order  among  us.    We  were  allowed 

enter  only  a  few  of  the  rooms  in  the  Gongrega- ' 
[onid  Nunnery,  although  it  was  not  considered  one 

the  secluded  Convents. 

la  the  Black  Nunnery,  which  is  very  near  the  Con* 
^gational,  is  an  hospital  for  sick  people  from  the 
|ty ;  and  sometimes  some  of  our  boarders,  such  as 
rere  indisposed,  were  sent  there  to  be  cured.    I  was 

ice  taken  ill  myself  and  sent  there,  where  I  re-. 

lined  a  few  days. 

There  were  beds  enough  for  a  considerable  num- 
»  more.  A  physician  attended  it  daUv,  and  there 
re  a  number  of  the  yeiled  nuns  of  that  ConYent  who 

md  most  of  their  time  there. 

These  would  also  sometimes  read  lectures  and  re* . 
»at  prayers  to  us. 

After  I  had  been  in  the  Oongregational  Nunnefr 

mt  two  years,  I  left  it,  and  attended  several  dtf* 
)rent  schools  for  a  short  time.  But  I  soon  became 
^ssatisfied.  having  many  and  severe  triids  to  endure 

home,  which  my  feelings  will  not  allow  me  to  de« 

ribe :  and  as  my  Gatholic  acquaintances  had  often 

[>ken  to  me  in  favour  of  their  faith,  I  was  inclined 

believe  it  true,  although,  as  I  before  said,  I  knew 
ktle  of  any  religion.  While  out  of  the  nunneiy,'  X 
kw  nothing  of  religion.  If  I  had,  I  believe  I  diouU 
iver  have  thought  of  becoming  a  nun. 


^^^,*:/a; 


u 


▲Unroll  fitiOLMtnofift 


CHAPTER  m. 

bulCE  vxnnsnsxx, 

Fmaratfonito  become  a  Noirice  in  the  Blnok  Nminery^ 
Entrance— Occupati  ns  of  thei|?0Tice8~The  apa^  toienta 
to  which  they  had  access— First  interview  with  Jane 
Kay -Reverence  for  the  Superior—A  wonderful  Nun— 
Her  rellqnea-The  Holy  Good  Sbepherd,  or  NamdeM 
Kun— Confession  of  Novices. 

At  length  I  determined  to  become  a  Black  Nun,  and 
called  upon  one  of  the  oldest  priests  in  the  Seminary, 
to  whom  I  made  known  my  intention. 

'The  old  priest  to  whom  I  applied  was  Father 
Bocqne.  He  is  still  alive.  He  was  at  that  time  the 
oldest  priest  in  the  seminary,  and  carried  the  Bon 
Pieu,  Good  God,  as  the  sacramental  wafer  is  called. 
When  going  to  administer  it  in  any  country  place, 
be  used  to  ride  with  a  man  before  him,  who  rang  a 
i»Il  as  a  signal.  When  the  Canadians  heard  it, 
whose  habitations  be  passed,  they  would  come  and 
{irostrate  themselves  to  the  earth,  worshipping  it  as 
a  Qod.  He  was  a  man  of  great  age,  and  wore  large 
anrls,  so  that  he  somewhat  resembled  his  predeces* 
•or,  Father  Boue.  He  was  at  that  time  at  the  head 
of  the  Seminary.  This  Institution  is  a  laii^e  edifice, 
ntaated  near  the  Congregational  and  Black  Nunner- 
le|,  being  on  the  east  side  of  Notre  Dame  ^reet.^  It 
Is  the  general  rendezvous  and  centre  of  all  the  priests 
in  the  district  of  Montreal,  and  I  have  been  told, 
sni^lies  all  the  country  as  far  down  as  the  Three 
.Elvers,  which  place,  I  believe,  is  under  the  charge 
of  the  Seminary  of  Quebec.  About  one  hundred  and 
iLfiy  priests  are  connected  with  that  at  Montreal,  as 
every  small  place  has  one  priest,  and  a  nnmberof 
fiiimr  ones  have  two. 

Iwier  Bocqne  promised  to  convAse  with  the  Sn* 
peiior  of  the  OonvMiV  and  proposed  my  oallipiraipln 
at  the  end  of  two  weeks,  at  which  tiaoe  I  vMtei  the 
Seminary  again,  and  WM  introdnoed  bjr  Uea  1^  the 


i 


am  UMMtAWOmK, 


17 


Snperior  of  the  Black  Nunnarj.  She  told  bm  die 
{must  make  tome  Inqniriei,  before  ihe  oould  gire  me 
I  a  decided  answer,  and  proposed  to  me  to  take  up  my 
abode  a  few  daje  at  the  house  of  a  French  family  in 
St.  Lawrence  suburb^  a  distant  part  of  the  dtjr. 
Here  I  remained  abftt a  fortnight;  dnrinji  whioh 
{time  I  formed  some  aotfiiaititance  with  the  family, 
particularly  with  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who  waa 
a  devoted  Papist,  and  had  a  high  respect  for  the  Stt* 
perior,  with  whom  she  stood  on  good  terms. 

At  length,  on  8aturdny  morning  about  ten  o'clock, 
I  called,  and  was  admitted  into  the  filack  Nunnery 
as  a  noTioe,  much  to  my  satisfaction,  for  I  had  a 
[high  idea  of  life  in  a  Convent,  secluded,  as  I  enp* 
>osed  the  inmates  to  be,  from  the  world  and  all  its 
[evil  influences,  and  assured  of  everlasting  happineea 
in  heaven.   The  Superior  received  me,  and  oondnct* 
ed  me  into  a  large  room,  where  the  novices,  who  are 
Icalled  in  French,  Postulantes,  were  assembled,  and 
(engaged  in  their  customarv  occupation  of  sewing, 
I    Here  were  about  forty  of  them,  and  they  were  col- 
lected in  groups  in  different  parts  of  the  room,  chief* 
ly  near  the  windows ;  but  in  each  group  waa  foui^l 
one  of  the  veiled  nuns  of  the  convent,  whose  abode 
[was  in  the  interior  apartments,  to  which  no  novice 
Bras  to  be  admitted.    As  we  entered,  the  Superior  in« 
Formed  the  assembly  that  a  new  novice  had  come,' 
ind  she  desired  any  one  present  who  might  have 
mown  me  in  the  world  to  signify  it. 

Two  Miss  Feugnees,  and  a  Miss  Howard  from  Yer* 
innt,  who  had  been  my  fellow-pupile  in  the  Gon* 
rregational  Nunnery,  immediately  recognised  meb 
^  was  then  placed  in  one  of  the  groups  at  a  diatanoe 
romthem,  and  furnished  by  a  nnn,  called  Saiale 
aotilde,  with  materials  to  make  a  purse,  such  aa 
jnests  use  to  carry  the  consecrated  wafer  in,  when 
they  go  to  administer  the  miiment  to  the  81^,  I 
rell  remember  my  f eii||^S  that  titee,  sitting 
imong  a  nnmber  of  aH^pbi  mA  ^pecUng  m¥k 
174  B 


ft  3 


18 


▲WTOi  SflKMilTW 


minfQl  amdetj  the  aniTtl  of  the  dinner^heiir. 
TheD,  ee  I  knew,  oeremonies  were  to  be  perfonned, 
thotfh  f (Mr  whioh  I  wm  but  ill  prepared,  at  I  bed 
not  yet  beerd  the  rules  by  which  I  wm  to  be  go* 
Temed,  end  knew  nothini^  of  the  forma  to  be  repeat* 
edin  the  daily  ezeroiset,  except  the  oreed  in  Latin, 
and  that  imperfectly.  This  was  during  the  time 
of  recreation,  as  it  is  called.  The  only  recreation 
there  allowed,  however,  is  that  of  the  mind,  and  of 
this  there  is  but  little.  We  were  kept  at  work,  and 
permitted  to  speak  with  each  other  only  in  hearing 
of  the  old  nuns  who  sat  by  us.  We  proceeded  to  din- 
ner in  couples,  and  ate  in  silence  while  alectnre  was 
read. 

The  noTices  had  access  to  only  ei^ht  of  the  aparf  • 
ments  of  the  Convent ;  and  whatever  else  we  wished 
to  know,  we  could  only  conjecture.  The  sleeping 
room  was  in  the  second  story,  at  the  end  of  the  wes- 
tem«wing.  The  beds  were  placed  in  rows,  without 
curtains  or  any  thing  else  to  obstruct  the  view ;  and 
in  one  corner  was  a  small  room  partitioned  off,  in 
which  was  the  bed  of  a  ni^ht-watch,  that  is,  the  old 
nun  who  was  appointed  to  oversee  us  for  the  night. 
In  each  side  of  the  partition  were  two  holes,  through 
which  she  could  look  out  upon  us  whenever  she 
pleased.  Her  bed  was  a  little  raised  above  the  level 
of  the  others.  There  was  a  lamp  hung  in  the  mid- 
dle of  our  chamber,  which  showea  everything  to  her 
very  distinctly;  and  as  she  had  no  lisht  in  her  little 
room,  we  never  could  perceive  whether  she  was 
•wake  or  asleep.  As  we  knew  that  the  slightest  de- 
viation from  the  rules  would  expose  us  to  her  obeer- 
▼ation  as  well  as  to  that  of  our  companions,  in  whom 
it  was  a  virtue  to  betray  one  another's  faults,  con- 
tinual exposure  to  suffer  what  I  disliked,  and  had  my 
mind  oceapied  in  thinking  of  what  I  was  to  do  next, 
and  what  I  most  avoid.  Though  I  soon  learned  the 
volet  and  eevenoniee  we  had  to  paae,  wbloh  were 
amnj,  and  w«  bid  to  be  naf  pattfoulaY  in  ttieir  ob- 


ov  iciit4  Hon* 


i* 


lerranoa,  we  were  employed  in  difleraui  kinds  el 
ifork  while  I  watanoTioe.  The  most  beantifnl 
ipecimen  of  the  nun'e  manufacture  which  I  taw. 
^as  a  rich  carpet  made  of  fine  worsted,  which  had 
)eau  hegun  before  my  acquaintance  with  the  Oon* 
rent,  and  was  finished  while  I  was  there.  This  WM 
lent  as  a  present  to  the  King  of  England,  as  an  ez« 
)res8ion  of  gratitude  for  the  monej  annuallj  re* 
teived  from  the  go?ernment.  It  was  about  forty 
rards  in  length,  and  Tery  handsome.  We  were  ig* 
lorant  of  the  amount  of  money  thus  received.  The 
>nyent  of  the  Grey  Nuns  has  also  received  funds 
from  the  government,  though  ou  some  accoanl  or 
)ther,  had  not  for  several  years. 

I  was  sitting  by  a  window  at  one  time  with  a  girl 
lamed  Jane  M'Coy,  when  one  of  the  old  nuns  came 
ip  and  spoke  to  us  in  a  tone  of  liveliness  and  kind* 
lesSy  which  seemed  strange  in  a  place  where  every 
thing  appeared  so  cold  and  reserved.  Some  remaru 
fhioh  she  made  were  evidently  intended  to  cheer 
md  encourage  me,  and  made  me  think  that  she  felt 
lome  interest  in  me.  I  do  not  recollect  what  riie 
laid,  but  I  remember  it  gave  me  pleasure.  I  lUne 
remember  that  her  manners  struck  me  singularlv* 
3be  was  rather  old  for  a  nun— that  is,  probably 
thirty ;  her  figure  large,  her  face  wrinkled,  and  her 
Iress  careless.  She  seemed  also  to  be  under  less  re* 
int  than  the  others,  and  this  I  afterwards  found 
ras  the  case.  She  sometimes  even  set  the  rules  at 
lefiauoe.  She  would  speak  aloud  when  silence  was 
ittired.  and  sometimes  walk  about  when  she  ought 
have  Kept  her  place  :  she  would  even  say  and  do 
.jings  on  purpose  to  make  us  laugh,  and,  although 
^f ten  blamed  for  her  conduct,  had  her  offences  f re* 
tuently  passed  over,  when  others  would  have  been 
mnished  with  penances, 
I  learnt  that  this  woman  had  always  been  aingn- 
ir.  She  never  wonld  consent  to  take  a  sak^anaiM 
reeelvittf  tliisve0»«iidliedalway8  been  known  bj 


▲WJOL  IXI80L08UBB8 


b«r  own,  which  wm  Jane  Bay.  H«r  irregalaritiaa 
wan  found  to  ba  nnmacona,  and  paoanoea  wara  of 
•o  littla  naa  in  goTaruing  har,  thai  aha  waa  pitiad 
bj  aomai  who  thought  har  partially  iniana*  She 
wa%  thmfora,  oommoulj  tpokau  of  aa  mad  Jane 
Bay  ;  and  whan  tha  oommitted  a  fault,  it  waa  apo- 
logiaad  for  by  tha  Supahor  or  other  uunS|  on  the 
fioond  ttiat  aha  did  not  kuow  what  she  did. 

Tha  oooupatioDt  of  a  novice  iu  the  Black  Nunnerj 
are  not  anoii  as  eome  of  our  readers  may  suppose. 
Thay  ara  not  employed  in  studying  the  higher 
branchaa  of  aducatiou :  they  are  not  offered  any  ad- 
Tantagaa  for  atoring  their  miuds,  or  polishing  their 
mannara;  they  are  not  taught  even  reading,  writing, 
or  arithmetic ;  much  less  any  of  tha  mora  advanced 
branohas  of  knowledge.  My  time  was  chiefly  em- 
ploj^ad,  at  first,  in  work  and  prayers.  It  is  true, 
anriog  tha  last  vear  I  studied  a  great  deal,  and  was 
laqnirad  to  work  but  verv  little ;  but  it  waa  the  study 
of  pray  ara  in  Freuch  aud  Latiu,  which  I  had  merely 
to  commit  to  memory,  to  prepare  for  the  easy  repe- 
tition of  them  on  my  reception,  aud  after  I  should  be 
admitted  aa  a  nun. 

Among  tha  wonderful  eTants  which  had  happen- 
ad  in  tha  Gonvant,  that  of  the  sudden  conversion  of 
a  gay  youna  lady  of  the  city  iuto  a  nun  appeared  to 
ma  ona  of  tha  moat  remarkable.  The  story  which  I 
first  heard  while  a  novice,  made  a  deep  impressiou 
npon  0117  mind.    It  waa  nearly  aa  foUowa : 

Tha  oanghtar  of  a  wealthy  oitiaen  of  Montreal  was 
paasing  the  ohureh  of  Bon  Seooura  ona  evening,  on 
nar  way  to  a  ball,  when  aha  waa  auddauly  thrown 
down  npon  tha  steps  or  near  tha  door,  aud  received 
a  aavara  shook.  She  waa  taken  up,  and  removed 
fir^  I  think,  into  tha  chnrch,  bnt  aoon  into  the 
Black  Nunnery,  which  she  determined  to  Join  as  a 
nna;  instead,  nowavar,  of  being  required  to  pass 
tbiopigb  a  long  novitiata,  (which  nsoally  oaanpies 
aibonl two yaaia  aada  half,  and  ia  abrMgad  only 


OV  ICABU  XOKX. 


SI 


7h«ra  the  ohtftotor  if  peooliarly  ezempltfr  utd  d«« 
/out)  iho  was  pennittad  to  take  the  tmI  without  de- 
lay, Deing  deolared  by  God  to  a  priest  to  be  in  a 
itate  of  sanotity.  The  meaDiog  of  this  etptessioii 
is,  that  she  was  a  real  saint,  and  already  io  a  .great 

leasnre  raised  aboTe  the  world  and  its  inflnenoes, 
^dinoapable  of  sinning;  possessing  the  power  oi 
Intercession,  and  a  proper  object  to  be  addressed  in 
>rayer.  This  remarkable  individual,  I  was  farther 
iformed,  was  still  in  the  Convent,  though  I  noTer 
ras  allowed  to  see  her  ;  she  did  not  mingle  with  the 
)ther  nuDs,  either  at  work,  worshiper  meals:  lor 
ihe  had  no  need  of  food,  and  not  only  her  soul.bat 
ler  body,  was  in  heaven  a  threat  part  of  her  time. 
Tlhut  addedj  if  possible,  to  the  reverence  and  myste- 
ions  awe  with  which  I  thought  of  her,  was  the  faot 

learned,  that  she  had  no  name.  The  titles  need  hi 
ipeaking  of  her  were,  the  holy  saint,  reverend  mo* 
kber,  or  saint  bon  pasteur,  (the  holy  good  shepherd.) 
'  It  is  wonderful  that  we  could  nave  earned  oar 
Reverence  for  the  Superior  so  far  as  we  did,  although 
[t  was  the  direct  teudency  of  many  instructions  and 

^gulations,  indeed  of  the  whole  system,  to  permit, 
)ven  to  foster,  a  superstitious  regard  for  her.  One 
)f  us  was  occasionally  called  into  her  room  to  oat 
ler  nails,  or  dress  her  hair ;  and  we  would  often  eol^ 
)ct  the  clippiugs,  and  distribute  them  to  each  other, 
^r  preserve  them  with  the  utmost  care.  I  once  pick- 
Id  up  all  her  stray  hairs  I  could  find  after  combing 
W  head,  bouud  them  together,  and  kept  them  for 

>me  time,  until  she  told  me  I  was  not  worti^y  to 

Dssess  things  so  sacred.  Jane  M'Ooy  and  I  were 
^nce  sent  to  alter  a  dress  for  the  Superior.  I  gather- 
|d  up  all  the  bits  of  thread,  made  a  little  basr,  and 
fut  them  into  it  for  safe  preservation.    This  I  wore 

long  time  round  my  neck,  so  long,  indeed,  tha^I 

rore  out  a  number  of  strings,  which  I  remember  I 
\nd  replaced  with  new  ones.    I  believed  it  to  pos* 

»8S  the  power  of  removing  pain,  and  have  bfteu 


AiWltni  mOLOBUBBt 


|nj«d  to  tt  to  ei»e  th«  looth^ftohA^  Ac.  JaaoBay 
mmuMmm  piofoned  to  ontdo  us  all  in  doTotioo  to 
tbo  wperior,  and  would  pick  up  the  featheri  after 
aialdnff  her  oed.  These  she  would  distribute  among 
ns^  sayingy  **  When  the  Superior  dies,  relics  will  be- 
fin  to  fxow  scarce,  and  you  had  better  supply  your- 
•elfos  in  seasou.**  Then  she  would  treat  the  whole 
natter  in  some  way  to  turn  it  into  ridicule.  Equally 
oontradictorr  would  she  appear,  when  occasionally 
she  would  obtain  leaye  from  her  Superior  to  tell  her 
dreams.  With  a  serious  fbce,  which  sometimes  im- 
posed upon  all  of  us,  and  made  us  half  believe  she 
was  in  a  perfect  state  of  sanctity,  she  would  narrate 
Id  Freooh  some  unaccountable  vision  which  she  said 
she  had  enjoyed ;  then  turning  round,  would  say, 
**  There  are  some  who  do  not  understand  me ;  you 
all  oui(ht  to  be  informed."  And  then  she  would  s«y 
something  totally  different  in  English,  which  put  us 
to  Uie  greatest  agony  for  fear  of  laughing.  Some- 
times &e  would  say  she  expected  to  be  Su)  erior  her- 
self one  of  those  days,  and  other  things  which  I  have 
not  room  to  repeat. 

While  I  was  in  the  Congregational  Nunnery,  I 
had  gone  to  the  parish  church  whenever  I  was  to 
confess,  for  although  the  nuns  had  a  private  coufes- 
sion*room  in  the  building,  the  boarders  were  taken 
in  parties  through  the  streets,  on  different  days,  by 
some  of  the  nuns,  to  confess  in  the  church ;  but  iu 
the  Black  Nunneryi  as  we  had  a  chapel,  and  priests 
attending  in  the  oonfessiouals,  we  never  left  the 
building. 

Our  oonfesrions  there  as  novices  were  always  per- 
formed in  one  way,  so  that  it  may  be  sufficient  to 
describe  a  single  case.  Those  of  us  who  were  to  con- 
fess at  a  particular  time,  took  our  places  on  our 
knees  near  the  oonfession*boz,  and,  after  having  re- 
peated a  number  of  prayers,  &c,  prescribed  in  our 
book,  came  up  one  at  a  time  and  Kneeled  beude  s 
fine  wooden  lattioe*w<Nrk,  whioh  entirely  eeparated 


s 


Of  111304  UXML 

tbeconfeMor  from  «•,  yet  pemiitUd  «•  to  plo^t  ow 
facet  almoet  to  hit  ear.  uid  needr  eonoeeled  bb 
tuntenanee  from  oor  vfew,  even  wEen  to  near*  X 
joolleot  bow  the  prieatt  uted  to  reoUne  their  hiadt 
m  one  aide,  and  often  coTered  their  facet  with  their 
landkerchiefa,  while  they  heard  meconfeat  my  tint^ 
md  pat  quea^ioDt  to  me,  which  were  often  of  the 
Doat  improper  and  revolting  nature,  naming  Crimea 
»oth  unthought  of  and  inhuman.  Still,  atoanse  at 
^t  may  seem,  I  waa  peraaaded  to  believe  that  aU  thia 
[waa  their  duty,  or  at  leaat  that  it  waa  dona  without 
lain. 

Veiled  nana  wonld  often  appear  in  the  chapel  at 
[confeaaion ;  though,  aa  I  underatood,  they  generally 
[confesaedin  private.  Of  the  plan  of  their  confettioii* 
roomalbad  no  information ;  but  I  auppoaed  tha 
ceremony  to  be  conducted  much  on  the  tame  plan 
aa  in  the  chapel  and  in  the  church,  vis.,  wiUi  alattioa 
[interpoaed  between  the  confeaaor  and  theconfe8dn|% 
Puniahmenta  were  tometimet  retorted  to  whfle  A 
waa  a  novice,  though  but  aeldom.  The  firtt  time  I 
ever  saw  a  gag,  waa  one  day  when  a  young  novioa 
had  done  aomething  to  offend  the  Superior.  Thia 
girl  I  alwaya  had  compaasion  for,  becauae  aha  waa 
very  young,  and  an  orphan.  The  Superior  aent  f6r 
a  gag,  and  expressed  her  regret  at  bemg  compiled, 
by  ^e  bad  conduct  of  the  child,  to  proceed  to  aucli 
a  puuishment ;  af  tpr  which  ahe  put  it  into  her  mouth, 
so  far  aa  to  keep  it  open,  and  then  let  it  remain  for 
some  time  before  she  took  it  out.  There  waa  a  lea* 
them  atrap  f  aatened  to  each  end,  and  buckled  to  the 
back  part  of  the  head. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Displeasad  with  the  Convent— Left  it— Retldenee  at  St  De- 
nis—Kelioi— Marriage— Return  to  the  Black  Hamiaty 
—Objeetiona  made  by  some  Novices. 

AiTBnIhad  been  a  novice  four  or  five  yean,  that 
it  frmn  the  time  I  commenced  tohool  in  the  Oon« 


t^*,-' 


14 


iimvh  imoLoiuBEs 


illMl^OMdftflwMtrMiMllijoMof  tlM  II1I118  in  a 
mumn  whieh  ditpleaaed  mo,  and  beoanie  I  ez- 
pgijjud  aoma  raaantmaDir  I  waa  reqnirad  to  bag  her 
pamn.  Not  baing  aatiafied-with  thia,  although  I 
oompliad  with  the  oommand,  nor  with  the  ooldness 
with  which  the  Superior  treated  ma,  I  determined 
to  quit  the  OoiiTent  at  once,  which  I  did  without 
aaking  leaTC.  There  would  hare  been  no  obatade  to 
mj  departure,  I  presume,  noTice  aa  I  then  was,  if 
I  had  asked  permission ;  but  I  was  too  much  dis- 
pleased  to  wait  for  that,  and  went  home  without 
apaaking  to  any  one  on  the  subject. 

I  aoon  after  Tisited  the  town  of  St.  Denis,  where 
I  aaw  two  young  ladies  with  whom  I  had  formerly 
been  acquainted  in  Montreal,  and  one  of  them  a  for- 
mer school-mate  at  Mr.  Workman'a  School.  After 
aoma  conyersation  with  me,  and  learning  that  I  had 
known  a  lady  who  kept  a  school  in  the  place,  they 
advised  me  to  apply  to  her  to  be  employed  as  her  as- 
aiatant  teacher ;  for  she  was  then  instructing  the  go- 
vernment school  in  that  place. 

I  Tisited  her,  and  found  her  willing,  and  I  engag- 
ed at  once  aa  her  assistant. 

The  goTcmment  society  paid  her  £20  a  year ;  ahe 
waa  ol>liged  to  teach  ten  children  gratuitously ;  might 
haye  fifteen  pence  a  month,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
dollar,  for  each  ten  scholars  more,  and  then  she  was 
aft  Kberty,  according  to  the  regulations,  to  demand 
aa  much  as  she  pleased  for  the  other  pupils.  The 
opuraeof  instruction  as  required  by  the  society,  em- 
braced only  readinsr,  writing,  and  what  was  called 
ciphering,  though  I  think  improperly.  The  only 
booka  used  were  a  snellinGf,  l'  Instruction  de  la  Jen- 
nesae,  the  Catholic  New  Testament,  and  1*  Histoire 
da  Canada.  When  these  had  been  read  throuL'h.  in 
regular  succession,  the  children  were  dismissed  as 
hayinir  completed  their  education.  No  difficulty  is 
found  in  making  the  common  French  Canadians  con* 
lanft  with  aooh  an  amount  of  inatrootloii  aa  thia;oa 


or  VASZl  XOKX. 


25 


»•  oontrary,  il  is  oftoi  found  Terr  baid  indeed  to 
rerail  npon  them  to  tend  tb^  obfldxen  at  all.  for 
d^  tay  it  takes  too  much  of  Ine  loTO  of  God  mm 
em  to  send  them  toeohooU  The  teacher  stHotly 
mplied  with  the  requisitione  of  the  locietT  in  whoeo 
^ployment  she  was,  and  the  Boman  Catholic  cate« 
ihism  was  regularly  tauf^ht  in  the  school,  as  much 
m  choice,  as  from  submission  to  authority,  as  she 
ras  a  strict  Catholic.  I  had  brought  with  me  the 
ittle  bag  before  mentioned,  in  which  I  had  so  long 
iept  the  clippings  of  the  thread  left  after  making  a 
iress  for  the  Superior.  Such  was  my  regard  for  it, 
tat  I  continued  to  wear  it  constantly  round  my 
teck,  and  to  feel  the  same  reverence  for  its  suppos* 
d  virtues  as  before.  I  occasionally  had  the  tooth* 
tche  during  my  stay  at  St.  Denis,  and  then  always 
ilied  on  the  influence  of  my  little  bag.  On  such 
sessions  I  would  say—*'  By  the  virtue  of  this  bag 
lay  I  be  delivered  from  the  tooth-ache !"  and  I  sup« 
^osed  that  when  it  ceased  it  was  owing  to  that  cause* 
While  engaged  in  this  manner,  I  became  acqudnt- 
with  a  man  who  soon  proposed  marriage ;  and, 
roung  and  ignorant  of  the  world  as  I  was,  I  heard 
lis  offers  with  favour.  On  consulting  with  my 
riend,  she  expressed  a  friendly  interest  to  me,  ad« 
rised  me  against  taking  such  a  step,  and  especially 
IS  I  knew  so  little  about  the  man,  except  that  a  re* 
)ort  was  circulated  unfavourable  to  his  character. 
Tnfortunately,  I  was  not  wise  enough  to  listen  to  her 
^dvice,  and  hastily  married.  In  a  few  weeks  I  had 
jcasion  to  repent  of  the  step  I  had  taken,  as  the  re« 
)rt  proved  true— a  report  which  I  thought  justified, 
knd  indeed  required,  our  separation.  After  I  had 
^en  in  St.  Denis  about  three  months,  finding  myself 
lus  situated,  atid  not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  I 
letermined  to  return  to  the  Convent,  and  pursue  my 
[ormer  intention  of  becoming  a  Blnck  Nun,  could  i 
rain  admittance.  Knowing  the  many  inquiries  tha 
Superior  would  make  relative  to  me  during  my  ab« 


XWWUL  M8GL0SiniS8 


t8BM^  b«fora  iMTing  St  Denis  I  agreed  with  tht 
lady  with  whom  I  Md  heen  associated  as  a  teacher, 
(wfien  she  went  to  Montreal,  which  she  did  Tcry  Ire. 

Sneiitly)  to  say  to  the  Lady  Superior  I  had  heen  un. 
er  her  protection  during  my  absence,  which  would 
satisfy  and  stop  farther  inquiry ;  as  I  was  sensible, 
should  they  know  I  had  been  married  I  should  not 
gjsin  admittance. 

I  soon  left  and  returned  to  Montreal,  and,  on 
reaching  the  city,  I  Tisited  the  Seminary,  and  in 
anoUier  interview  with  the  Superior  of  it,  commu- 
nicated my  wish,  and  desired  her  to  procure  my  re- 
admission  as  a  novice.    Little  delay  occurred. 

After  leaving  for  a  short  time,  she  returned  and 
told  me  that  the  Superior  of  the  Convent  had  con- 
sented, and  I  was  soon  introduced  into  her  presence. 

She  blamed  me  for  my  conduct  in  leavingthe  nun- 
nery,  but  told  me  that  t  ought  to  be  ever  frrntcf  ul  to 
my  guardian  angel  for  taking  care  of  me,  unlessi  pro- 
hibited by  the  Superior ;  and  this  she  promised  me. 
The-  money  usually  required  for  the  admission  of 
novices  had  not  been  expected  from  me.  I  had  been 
admitted  the  first  time  without  any  such  requisition ; 
but  now  I  chose  to  pay  for  my  re-admission.  I  knew 
tiiat  the  was  able  to  dispense  with  such  a  demand  as 
well  in  this  as  in  the  former  case,  and  she  knew  that 
I  was  not  in  possession  of  any  thing  like  the  sum  r«- 
quired. 

But  I  was  bent  on  paying  to  the  Nunnery,  and 
accustomed  to  receive  the  doctrine  often  repeated  to 
me  before  that  time,  that  when  the  advantage  of  the 
<diiuroh  was  consulted,  the  steps  taken  were  justifi- 
able, let  them  be  what  thev  would ;  I  therefore  resolv- 
ed to  obtain  money  on  false  pretences,  confident  that 
if  M  were  known,  I  should  be  far  from  displeasing 
the  Superior.  I  went  to  the  brfgade-major,  and 
asked  nim  to  give  me  the  money  payable  to  my  mo- 
ther from  her  pension,  which  amounted  to  about 
tldrty  dollars,  and  without  questioning  my  authority 
to  receiTe  it  tii  h«r  namei  he  gave  it  me. 


or  XABU  mnnc. 


27 


'% 

i-.>\ 


m 


mmnl  of  th«ir  friends  I  obtained  imall 
under  the  name  of  loans,  so  that  altogether  I 
_  soon  raised  a  nomber  of  pounds,  with  which  I 
itened  to  the  Nunnery,  and  deposited  a  part  in  the 
ids  of  the  Superior.  She  received  the  money  with 
^dent  ^satisfaction,  though  she  must  have  known 
kt  I  could  not  have  obtaiued  it  honestly ;  and  I 

at  once  re-admitted  as  a  novice. 
[Much  to  mv  gratification,  not  a  word  fell  from  the 
>s  of  any  of  my  old  associates  in  relation  to  my 
^ceremonious  departure,  nor  my  voluotarv  return. 
le  Superior's  orders,  I  had  not  a  doubt,  had  been 
[plicitly  laid  down,  and  they  certainly  were  care« 
lily  obeyed,  for  I  never  heard  an  allusion  made  to 
iat  subject  during  my  subsequent  stay  in  the  Oon- 
mt,  except  that^  when  alone,  the  Superior  would 
>metimes  say  a  little  about  it. 
There  were  numbers  of  young  ladies  who  entered 
rhile  as  novices,  and  became  weary  or  disgusted 
[ith  some  thins[s  they  observed,  and  remained  but 
short  time.    One  of  my  cousins,  who  lived  at  La« 
[line,  named  Beed,  spent  about  a  fortnight  in  the 
Convent  with  me.    She  however,  conceived  such  an 
itipathy  to  the  priests,  that  she  used  expressions 
rhich  offended  the  Superior. 
The  first  day  that  she  attended  mass,  while  at  din- 
|er  with  u^  in  full  community,  she  said  before  us 
11,  *^  What  a  rascal  that  priest  was,  to  preach  against 
lis  best  friend  I" 
All  stared  at  such  an  unusual  exclamation,  and 
>me  one  enquired  what  she  meant. 
**  I  say,"  she  continued,  *'  he  has  been  preaching 
gainst  him  who  has  given  him  his  bread.    Do  you 
ippose  that  if  there  were  no  devil,  there  would  be 
ny  priests  F" 

This  bold  young  novice  was  immediately  dismiss- 
1,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  had  a  long  sermon  from 
[he  Superior  on  the  subject. 
It  happened  that  I  one  day  got  a  leaf  of  an  Bng* 


i  '   ' 

m 


▲WFOL  DX80L0BUBSI 

Ush  BiUto  wbidh  had  been  brongbt  into  the  ConTeut,  I 
wrapped  aroQnd  some  eewing  eilk,  purohaeedatil 
■tore  in  the  dty.  For  some  reason  or  other,  I  de* 
termined  to  commit  to  memory  a  chapter  it  contain* 
ed,  which  I  soon  did.  It  is  the  only  chapti^  1 6?«i  I 
leamt  in  the  Bible,  and  I  can  now  repeat  it.  It  ii 
the  second  of  St.  Matthew's  gospel.  **  Now  when 
Jesns  was  born  at  Bethlehem  in  Judea,"  &c.  It  hap. 
pened  that  I  was  observed  reading  the  paper,  aud 
when  the  nature  of  it  was  discovered.  I  was  coo* 
domned  to  do  penauce  for  my  offence. 

Gkeat  dislike  to  the  Bible  was  showp  by  those  who 
oonTcrsed  with  me  about  it,  aud  several  have  re* 
marked  at  me  at  different  times,  that  if  it  were  uot 
for  that  book,  Catholics  would  never  be  led  to  re* 
uonnce  their  own  faith. 

I  have  heard  passa^res  read  from  the  Evaugile,  re- 
lating to  the  death  of  Christ ;  the  conversion  of  Paul; 
a  few  chapters  from  St.  Matthew,  and  perhaps  a  few 
others.  The  priests  would  also  sometimes  take  averse 
or  two,  and  preach  from  it.  I  have  read  St.  Peter'i 
life,  bnt  only  on  the  book  called  the  **  lives  of  tlie 
Saints.**  He,  I  nnderstood,  has  the  keys  of  heaven 
and  hell,  and  has  founded  our  church.  As  for  Saiut 
Paul.  I  remember,  as  I  was  taught  to  understand  it, 
that  ne  was  once  a  great  persecutor  of  the  Roman 
Oatholies,  until  he  became  convicted,  and  confessed 
to  one  of  the  father  con/essarSy  I  don't  know  wLicii. 
For  who  can  expect  to  be  f  ory^iven,  who  does  not  be- 
come a  Catholic,  and  confess? 

CHAPTER  V. 

Beeeived  C^nflnnation— Painful   Feelings--Spedmens  of 
Instructions  received  on  the  Subject. 

Thx  day  on  which  I  received  Confirmation  was  a 
distressing  one  to  me.  I  belieted  the  doctrine  of  the 
Bonian  Catholics,  and  according  to  them  I  was  guil« 
tj  of  three  mortal  sins;  conoealinff  something st 
ponfessioni  saoriiegei  in  patting  th#  Dodjof  Qhru^ 


OV  KABIA  XOldL 


39 


thesaorameut  atmy  feet,  and  brreoeiyiDg it  while 
it  in  a  state  of  grace  !  and  now  I  had  been  led  into 
il  those  siusin  coDsequencej^l  my  marriage,  which 
[never  had  acknowledged,  as  it  woald  have  cat  me 
^  from  being  admitted  as  a  nnn. 

On  the  day,  therefore,  when  I  went  to  the  ohuroh 

be  confirmed  with  a  number  of  others,  I  suffered 
[tremely  from  the  reproaches  of  my  conscience.  I 
lew,  at  least  I  beliered,  as  I  had  been  told,  that  a 
)rsou  who  had  been  anointed  with  the  holy  oil  of 
>nfirmation  on  the  forehead,  and  dving  in  the  state 

which  I  was,  would  go  down  to  hell,  and,  in  the 
lace  where  the  oil  had  been  rubbed,  the  names  of 
ly  sins  would  blaze  out  of  mj  forehead;  these 
fould  be  a  sifi[n  by  which  the  devils  would  know  me, 
id  would  tormeut  me  the  worse  for  them.  I  was 
liiikiug  of  all  this,  while  I  was  sitting  in  the  pew, 
kiting  to  receive  the  oil.  I  felt  however  some  eon- 
Nation,  as  I  often  did  afterwards,  when  my  tins 
ime  to  my  mind :  and  this  consolation  I  derived 

>m  another  doctrine  of  the  church,  viz.,  tiiat  a  his* 
>p  could  absolve  me  from  all  these  sins  any  minute 
)f ore  my  death  ;  and  I  intended  to  confess  them  bXL 

a  bishop  before  leaving  the  world.  At  length  the 
moment  for  administering  of  the  **  sacrament'*  arriv* 
1,  and  a  bell  was  rung.      Those  who  had  come  to 

confirmed  had  brought  tickets  from  their  confes- 
>rs,  and  those  were  thrown  into  a  hat,  and  earned 
md  by  a  priest,  who  in  turn  handed  each  to  a 
fshop,  by  which  he  learned  the  name  of  each  of  as, 
id  applied  a  little  of  the  oil  to  the  foreheads.  This 
[as  immediately  rubbed  off  by  a  priett  wi^  a  bit  of 
oth  quite  roughly. 

I  went  home  with  some  qualms  of  oonsdenoe,  and 
ften  thought  with  dread  of  the  following  tale,  wMch 
have  heard  told,  to  illustrate  the  sinf  ulnets  of  oon* 
n:^  i:ke  mine. 

A  priest  was  onoe  traTelUng.  when  Just  as  he  Wat 
Lssing  by  a  hoQM^  hit  hone  fell  on&ia  knees,  and 


M  AWML  imKIBiCMillMS 

would  not  ziM.  His  rider  ditmomited  and  went  in, 
to  laem  the  cause  of  so  extraordinary  an  ooourrence. 
He  found  there  a  woman  netr  death,  to  whom  i 
priest  was  trying  to  admiuiBter  the  sacrament,  but 
without  success;  for  every  time  she  attempted  to 
■wallow  it,  it  was  thrown  back  out  of  her  mouth  into 
the  ohalice.  He  perceived  it  was  owing  to  uncon. 
lessed  sin,  and  tooK  awav  the  holy  wafer  from  her: 
ou  which  his  horse  rose  from  his  kneei,  atid  he  pur- 
sued his  journey. 

X  often  remembered  also  that  I  had  been  told,  that 
we  shall  have  as  many  devils  biting  us,  if  we  go  to 
hell,  as  we  have  unoonf  eased  siuson  our  consciences. 

I  was  required  to  devote  myself  for  about  a  year 
to  the  study  of  the  prayers  and  practice  of  the  cere* 
monies  necessary  on  the  reception  of  a  nun.  This  I 
found  a  very  tedious  duty ;  but  as  I  was  released  iu 
a  great  degree  from  the  daily  labours  usually  dc 
manded  of  novices,  I  felt  little  disposition  to  complain. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

XlsiUng  the  veil— Interview  afterwards  with  the  Superior- 
Surprise  and  horror  at  the  disdosures—Kesolution  to 
submit. 
X  WAB  introdnced  into  the  Superior's  room  on  the 
ereninff  preceding  the  dajr  on  which  I  was  to  take 
the  veil,  to  have  an  interview  with  the  bishoa  The 
Superior  was  present,  and  the  interview  lastea  about 
baft  an  hour.  Tlie  bishop  ou  this  as  on  other  occa- 
sions appeared  to  be  habitually  rou^h  in  his  man- 
ners. His  address  was  by  no  means  prepossessiiig. 
Bef<|re  I  took  the  veil,  I  was  ornamented  for  the 
oeiemony,  and  was  clothed  in  a  dress  belonging  to 
fbe  Convent,  which  was  used  on  such  occasions;  and 
^aoed  not  far  from  the  altar  in  the  chapel,  in  the 
view  of  a  number  of  spectators,  who  had  assembled, 
bk  number,  perhi^s  about  forty.  Taking  the  veil  ii 
an  affair  wbidi  ooours  so  freqnentlv  in  Montresl^ 
liial it  baa  k«v  ^^Med  to  be  regacdei  ti  nnorelty; 


or  KASU  Mon. 


n 


^nd,  ftlthongh  notioa  had  been  giTen  in  the  Vreneh 

parish  ohuroh  at  usual,  onlv  a  small  audienoe  as* 

imbled  as  I  have  mentioned. 

Being  well  prepared  with  a  long  tndninfr/  and 

sequent  rehearsals,  for  what  I  was  to  perform,  I 

itood  waiting  in  my  large  flowing  dress  for  the  ap« 

learance  of  the  bishop.    He  soon  presented  himself, 

[nteruig  by  a  door  behind  the  altar  ;  I  then  threw 

lyself  at  his  feet,  and  asked  him  to  confer  npon  me 

le  veil.    He  expressed  his  consent ;  and  then  turn* 

iifi  to  the  Superior,  I  threw  myself  prostrate  at  her 

bet,  according  to  my  instructions,  repeating  what  I 

iave  before  done  at  rehearsals,  and  made  a  moTe- 

lent  as  if  to  kiss  her  feet.      This  she  prevented,  or 

jpeared  to  prevent,  catching  me  by  a  sudden  mo« 

ion  of  her  hand,  and  granted  my  request.    I  then 

[netiled  before  the  Holy  Sacrament,  that  is  a  large 

bund  wafer  held  by  the  Bishop  between  hit  fore- 

[n(?er  and  thumb,  and  made  my  vows. 

This  wafer  I  had  been  taught  to  regard  with  the 
[tmost  veneration  as  the  real  body  of  Jesus  Ohristi 
le  presence  of  which  made  the  vows  that  weri  nt» 
^red  before  it  binding  in  the  most  solemn  mannar. 
After  taking  the  vows,  I  proceeded  to  arasall 
krtmeut  behind  the  altar,  accompanied  by  font 
ins,  where  there  was  a  cofin  prepared  witii  my 
m's  name  engraved  upon  it : 

*•  Saint  Eustacb." 
My  companions  lifted  it  by  four  handles  attached 
it,  while  I  threw  off  my  dress,  and  pot  on  that  of 
Dun  of  SoBur  Bourgeoise ;  and  then  we  aUretumad 
the  chapel.      I  proceeded  first,  and  was  followed 
four  nuns,  the  Bishop  naming  a  number  of  world- 
pleasures  in  rapid  succession,  in  reply  to  whioh  I 
rapidly  repeated,  **  Je  renounce,  fe  renouueOi  jo 
Qounce,"— >I  renounce,  I  renounce,  l  renounee. 
[The  coffin  was  then  placed  in  front  of  the  altar, 
I  advanced  to  plaoe  mvself  in  it     This  muttkn 
to  be  d^sitedi  after  the  oeremottf I  In  ano«t« 


fa"  <■• 


m 


It 


▲WVOL  PUOLOBUIiBi 


hoaM,  to  be  preserred  until  my  death,  when  it  wai 
(o  reoeiTe  my  corpse.  There  were  refleotiont  #hioh 
I  naturally  made  at  that  time,  bat  I  stepped  in.  ex- 
tended myself,  and  lay  still.  A  pillow  had  been 
Slaeed  at  the  head  of  the  coffin,  to  support  mj  head 
I  a  comfortable  position.  A  lar^i^e  thick  black  cloth 
was  then  spread  over  mo,  and  the  chanting  of  Latin 
hymns  immediately  commenced.  My  thoughts  were 
not  the  most  pleasing  during  the  time  I  lay  in  that 
eilnation.  The  pall,  or  Drap  Mortel,  as  the  cloth  is 
called,  had  a  strong  smell  of  iiiceuse,  which  was  al- 
wars  disagreeable  to  me,  and  then  proved  almost 
•niiocating.  I  recollected  the  story  of  the  novice, 
who,  in  taking  the  veil,  lay  down  in  her  coffin  like 
me,  and  was  covered  in  the  same  manner,  but  on  the 
removal  of  the  covering  was  found  dead. 

When  I  was  uncovered,  I  rose,  stepped  ont  of  my 
coffin,  and  kneeled.  ^  Other  ceremonies  then  follow* 
ed,  of  no  particular  interest ;  after  which  the  musio 
commenced,  and  here  the  whole  was  finished.  I  then 
proceeded  from  the  chapel,  and  returned  to  the  Su- 
perior's room,  followed  by  the  other  nuns,  who  walk- 
ed two  bv  two,  in  their  customary  manner,  with 
fheir  hands  folded  on  their  breasts,  and  tb^ir  eyes 
oast  down  upon  the  floor.  The  nun  who  was  to  be 
my  companion  in  future,  then  walked  at  the  end  of 
the  procession.  On  reaching  the  Saperior^i  door 
liiey  all  left  me,  and  I  entered  alone,  and  fonnd  her 
with  the  Bishop  and  two  Priests. 

The  Superior  now  informed  me  that  having  taken 
the  black  veil,  it  only  remained  that  I  should  swear 
the  three  oaths  customary  on  becoming  a  nun ;  and 
that  some  explanation  would  be  necessary  from  her. 
I  was  now,  ane  told  me,  to  have  access  to  every  part 
of  the  edifice,  even  to  the  cellar,  where  two  of  the 
sisters  were  imprisoned  for  causes  which  she  did  not 
mention.  I  must  be  informed  that  one  of  my  great 
duties  was  to  obey  the  priests  in  all  thinga ;  and  thii 
I  aoom  leaniti  to  my  utter  astonishment  and  hoixori 


df  xatuHOMt. 


IS 


was  k>  life  in  the  praoiioe  of  criminal  interoonne 
with  them.    I  expressed  some  of  the  feelings  whioh 
this  announcement  excited  in  me,  which  came  upon 
me  like  a  flash  of  lightning ;  but  the  onlj  e£fect  was 
to  set  her  arguing  with  me,  in  favonr  of  the  crimcL 
representing  it  as  a  virtue  acceptable  to  Gh>d,  ana 
honourable  to  me.      The  priests,  she  said,  were  not 
situated  like  other  men,  being  forbidden  to  marry  ; 
while  they  lived  secluded,  laborious,  and  self-denv« 
ing  lives  for  our  salvation.    They  might,  indeed,  be 
considered  our  saviours,  as  without  their  swvioejra 
I  could  not  obtain  pardon  of  sin,  and  must  go  !•  KmU| 
I  Now  it  was  our  solemn  duty,  on  withdrawinf  fqjK 
the  world,  to  consecrate  our  lives  to  religion,  to  prao* 
tioe  every  species  of  self-denial.    We  could  not  be 
too  humble,  nor  mortify  our  feelings  tdo  far ;  this 
Iwas  to  be  done  by  opposing;  them,  and  acting  eon- 
[trary  to  them ;  and  what  she  proposed  was,  there* 
fore,  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God.    I  now  felt  how 
Foolish  I  had  been  to  place  myself  in  the  power  of 
inch  persons  as  were  around  me. 
^  From  what  she  said,  I  could  draw  no  other  oonclu* 
uous  but  that  I  was  reauired  to  act  like  the  most 
tbapdoned  of  beings,  ana  that  all  my  future  asso- 
ciations were  habitually  guilty  of  the  most  heinous 
md  detestable  crimes.      When  I  repeated  my  ex- 
pressions of  surprise  and  horror,  she  told  me  thari 
luoh  feelings  were  very  common  at  first,  and  that 
lany  other  nuns  had  expressed  themselves  as  I  did, 
rho  had  long  since  changed  their  minds.    She  even 
ud,  that  on  her  entrance  into  the  nunnery,  she  had 
)ltlikeme. 

Doubts,  she  declared,  were  among  our  greatest 
iMnies.  They  would  lead  us  to  question  every  point 
'  duty,  and  induce  us  to  waver  at  every  step.  They 
ose  only  from  remaining  imperfections,  and  w«ra 
Iways  evidences  of  sin.  Our  only  way  was  to  dis« 
UBS  them  immediately,  repent  and  confess  them, 
nests,  she  insisted,  eoold  not  iin.  It  was  athin|t 
174  0 


f 


u 


kWftfL  l>lM&0fOSlkl 


impossiblt.  ETerythiog  that  they  did,  and  wished, 
WM  of  eouie  right.  She  hoped  I  would  eee  the 
feeeonahleDeet  and  duty  of  the  oaths  I  was  then  to 
take,  and  be  f aithfol  to  them. 

She  gaTe  me  another  pieoe  of  informatioO|  which 
excited  other  feelings  in  me,  soaroely  less  dread! qI. 
Infants  were  sometimes  bom  in  the  OonTent,  but 
they  were  always  baptised,  and  immediately  Strang. 
led.  This  secured  tneir  CTerlastinff  happiness ;  for 
the  baptism  purifies  them  from  all  sinfulness,  and 
beipf  sent  out  of  the  world  before  they  had  time  to 
dp  anythiofi^  wron;?,  they  were  at  once  admitted  into 
heaTen.  How  happy,  she  exclaimed,  are  those  who 
aecure  immortal  happinese  to  such  little  beings! 
Their  souls  would  thank  those  who  kill  their  bodies, 
if  they  had  it  in  their  power. 

Into  what  a  place,  and  amonp^  what  society,  had  I 
been  admitted.  How  different  did  a  couTent  now 
appear  from  what  I  supposed  it  to  be.  The  holy 
women  I  had  always  fancied  the  nuns  to  be,  the 
venerable  Lftdy  Superior,  what  are  they  F  And  the 
priests  of  the  Seminary  adjoining,  (some  of  whom, 
indeed,  I  had  reason  to  think  were  base  and  profli. 
I(ate  men,)  what  were  they  all  F  I  now  learned  that 
^ey  were  often  admitted  into  the  nunnery,  and  tl. 
lowed  to  indulge  in  the  greatest  crimes,  which  they 
and  others  call  Tirtues. 

And  hsTing  listened  for  some  time  to  the  Superior 
alone,  a  number  of  the  nuns  were  admittea,  and 
took  a  free  part  in  the  conversation.  They  concur- 
red in  eTerytbing  which  she  told  me,  and  repeated, 
without  any  signs  of  shame  or  compunction,  thiugi 
which  crimmated  themseWes.  I  must  acknowledge  i 
the  truth,  and  declare  that  all  this  had  an  effect 
upon  my  mind.  I  questioned  whether  I  might  oot 
be  in  the  wrong,  and  felt  as  if  their  reasoning  migtt 
liava  some  iust  foundation,  I  bad  been  eeTm 
yean  under  the  tuition  of  Oatholics,  and  was  igno^j 
ant  of  the  Scriptures,  and  unaoeustomed  lu  tte 


09  usxu  xoxrx. 


dMjf  example,  aud  ounTenaticm  of  ProteaUnU ;  hud 
not  beard  any  appeal  to  the  Bible  as  authoritj.  bat 
had  been  taught,  both  by  preoept  and  example,  to 
reoeife  as  truth  eTerythinff  said  by  the  priests.  I 
had  not  heard  their  authoritr  questioned,  noranjr* 
thing  said  of  any  other  standard  of  faith  but  their 
declarations.  I  had  long  been  familiar  with  the  oor- 
Irupt  and  licentious  exDreMions  which  some  of  them 
use  at  confessions,  ana  belieTed  that  other  women 
were  also.  I  had  no  standard  of  duty  to  refer  to,  and 
no  judgment  of  my  own  which  I  knew  how  to  use, 
|or  thought  of  using. 

AH  around  me  insisted  that  my  doubts  proTed  only 
ly  own  ignorance  aud  sinfulness ;  that  they  knew 
>y  experience  that  they  would  soon  giTe  plaoe  to 
true  knowledge,  and  an  advance  in  religion ;  and  I 
[elt  something  like  indecision. 

Still  there  was  so  much  that  disgusted  me  in  the 
liscoTory  I  had  now  made,  of  the  debased  characters 
round  me,  that  I  would  most  gladly  have  escanad 
"om  the  nunnery,  and  never  returned.    But  tnat 
ras  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of.    I  was  in  their 
)Ower,  and  this  I  deeply  felt,  while  I  thought  there 
ras  not  one  among  the  whole  number  of  uuui  to 
rhom  I  could  look  for  kindness.    There  was  one, 
lowever,  who  began  to  speak  to  me  at  length  in  a 
one  that  gained  something  of  my  confidence, — ^the 
iun  whom  I  have  mentioned  before  as  distinguished 
^y  her  oddity,  Jane  Bi|y,  who  made  us  so  much 
^nusement  when  I  was  a  novice.      Although,  at  I 
fave  remarked,  there  was  nothing  in  her  face,  form, 
r  manners,  to  give  me  any  pleasure,  she  addreeaed 
le  with  apparent  friendlinees ;  and  while  she  seem* 
~  to  concur  with  some  things  spoken  by  them,  took 
opportunity  to  whispcnr  a  few  words  in  my  ear, 
heard  by  them,  intimating  that  I  had  better  oom- 
with  everything  the  Superior  desired,  if  I  would 
live  mv  life.    I  was  somewhat  alarmed  before^  but 
now  Mcame  mnoh  noM  ao^  and  daftsraiinad  ta 


,/iS 


I'' 


mi 


A 


AMWfTL  DtSCtUMindBfl 


iiAu.ke  no  farther  reftistsDoe.  The  Soperior  then  made 
me  repeat  the  three  oathi;  and,  wnen  I  had  sworn 
them,l  was  shown  into  one  of  the  oommauity-rooms, 
and  remained  some  time  with  the  nans,  wno  were 
released  from  their  usual  employments,  and  enjoying 
a  reereation  day,  on  account  of  the  admission  of  a 
new  sister.  My  feelings  during  the  remainder  of  the 
day  I  shidl  not  attempt  to  describe,  but  pass  on  to 
mention  the  ceremonies  that  took  place  at  dinner. 
lliis  description  may  gi?e  an  idea  ox  the  manner  in 
which  we  always  took  our  meals,  although  there 
weresoifie  points  in  which  the  breakfast  and  supper 
were  different 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  bell  rang  for  dinner,  and  the 
nnns  all  took  their  places  in  a  double  row,  in  the 
same  order  as  that  m  which  they  left  the  chapel  in 
the  morning,  except  that  my  companion  and  myself 
were  stationed  at  the  head  of  the  line.  Standing  thus 
lor  a  moment,  withonr  hands  placed  one  on  the 
other  OTer  the  breast,  and  hidden  in  our  large  cuffs, 
with  onr  heads  bent  forward,  and  eyes  fixed  on  the 
floor,  an  old  nun,  who  stood  at  the  door,  clapped  her 
hands  as  a  signal  for  vs  to  proceed ;  and  the  proces- 
rion  moTed  on,  while  we  all  commenced  the  repetition 
of  litanies*  We  walked  on  in  this  order,  repeating 
all  the  way  until  we  reached  the  door  of  the  dining- 
room,  where  we  were  divided  into  two  lines ;  those 
on  the  right  passing  down  the  side  of  the  long  table. 
and  those  on  the  left  the  other,  till  all  were  in ;  and 
eadi  stopped  in  her  place.  The  plates  were  all  ar- 
ranged, each  with  a  knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  rolled  up 
in  a  napkin,  and  tied  round  with  a  linen  band  mark- 
ed with  the  owner's  name*  My  own  plate,  knife, 
fte.,  were  prepared  like  the  rest :  and  on  the  band 
around  them  I  found  my  new  name  written— '*  Saint 
Eustace.'' 

There  we  stood  till  ill  had  concluded  the  litany, 
when  the  old  nun,  who  had  taken  her  place  at  the 
,  head  <tf  the  taUe  next  the  do<»|  said  t£e  prayer  be- 


e»MAXU  xoxx. 


87 


foi6  meat,  beginniniry  **Beii6dioita^**  anA  we  sal 
down.  I  do  not  remember  of  what  onr  dinner  eon* 
uBted,  but  we  usually  had  sonp,  and  some  plain  dish 
of  meat;  the  remains  of  which  were  occasionally 
served  up  at  supper  as  a  f  rioanee.  One  of  the  nuns. 
who  had  been  appointed  to  read  that  day,  rose,  and 
begun  a  lecture  from  a  book  put  into  her  hands  bj 
the  Superior,  while  the  rest  of  us  ate  in  perfect  si- 
lence. The  nun  who  reads  durioff  dinner,  stays^i^- 
terwards  to  dine.  As  fast  as  we  finished  our  meHUii 
each  rolled  up  her  knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  in  her  ni^ 
kin,  and  bound  them  together  with  the  ban4^  and 
sat  with  hands  folded.  The  old  nun  then  said  a 
short  prayer,  arose,  stepped  a  little  aside,  clapped  her 
hands,  and  we  marched  towards  the  door,  bowing  as 
we  passed,  before  a  little  chapel,  or  glass  box,  ooa- 
taining  a  wax  image  of  the  infant  Jesus. 

Nothing  important  occurred  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon,  when,  as  I  was  sitting  in  the  community-room. 
Father  Duf resue  called  me  out,  saying,  he  wished  to 
speak  with  me.  I  feared  what  was  his  intentipn ; 
but  I  dared  not  disobey.  In  a  private  apartment^ 
[he  treated  me  in  a  brutal  manner;  and,  from  two 
other  priests,  I  afterwards  received  similar  usage 
that  evening.  Father  Dufresne  afterwards  appear- 
ed again ;  and  I  was  compelled  to  remain  in  company 
I  with  Lim  until  morning. 

I  am  assured  that  the  conduct  of  priests  in  onr 
}onvent  had  never  been  exposed,  and  it  is  not  ima- 
gined by  the  people  of  the  United  States.  This  in- 
laces  me  to  say  what  I  do,  notwithstanding  the 
stronsT  reasons  i  have  to  let  it  remain  unknown. 
(till  I  cannot  force  myself  to  speak  on  such  subjects 

:cept  in  the  most  brief  manner. 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Daily  ceremonies— Jane  Uay  among  the  nuiis. 
^N  Thursday  morning,  the  bell  rang  at  half-past  dz 
^o  waken  us.    The  old  nun  who  was  acting  as  night* 
^at«h  immediately  spoke  aloud ; 


88 


▲WVQL  DUCDEOSUUi 


^^ToidbSdgnenraniTienf  (Behdd  Um  Lord 
oometh.)    The  duus  all  responded : 

**  AlloDe*-y  devant  lui.'*  (Let  usgo  and  meet  him.) 

We  then  rote  immediately,  and  dressed  as  ezpedi. 
tionsly  as  possibly,  stepping  into  the  passage-way. 
at  the  foot  of  our  bed,  as  soon  as  we  were  ready,  and 
taking  place  each  beside  her  opposite  companion. 
Thus  we  were  soon  drawn  up  in  a  double  row  the 
whole  length  of  the  room,  with  our  hands  folded 
aoioss  our  breasts,  and  concealed  in  the  broad  cuffs 
of  our  sleeves.  Not  a  word  was  uttered.  When  the 
npktd  was  given,  we  all  proceeded  to  the  oommu- 
mty-room,  which  is  spacious,  and  took  our  places  in 
rows  faoiog  the  entrance,  near  which  the  Superior 
was  seated  in  a  vergiere. 

We  first  repeated  "  An  nom  da  P^e,  da  Fils,  et 
da  Saint  Esprit— Aninsi  soit  il."  (In  the  name  of 
the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,— Amen.) 
"  We  then  kneeled  and  kissed  the  floor;  then,  still 
on.  our  knees,  we  said  a  very  long  prayer,  beji^in- 
ning :  "  Divin  Jesus,  sauveur  de  mon  ame,"  (Divine 
Jesus,  Saviour  of  my  soul.)  Then  came  the  Lord's 
praters,  three  Hail  Marys,  four  creeds,  and  five  ecu- 
fessions,  (confesse  k  Dieu.) 

Next  we  repeated  the  ten  commandments.  Then 
we  repeated  the  acts  of  faith,  and  a  prayer  to  the 
Virgin,  in  Latin,  which  like  everything  else  in  Latin, 
I  never  understood  a  word  of.  Next  we  said  litanies 
of  the  Holy  Name  of  Jesus,  in  Latin,  which  were 
afterwards  to  be  repeated  several  times  in  the  course 
of  the  day.  Then  came  the  prayer  for  the  beginning 
of  the  day;  then  bending  down,  we  commenced  the 
Orison  Mental,  for  Mental  Orison,)  which  lasted 
about  an  hour  and  a  half. 

This  exercise  was  considered  peculiarly  solemn. 
We  were  told  in  the  nunnery  that  a  certain  taint  was 
saved  by  the  use  of  it,  as  she  never  omitted  ii.  It 
consists  of  several  parts :  First,  the  Superior  read  to 
lie  •  chapter  froia  a  book|  whioh  oooa^ied  five  mi* 


'<€-*-; 


07  MIBU  MONS. 


89 


nntes.  Then  profound  sUenoe  preTailed  for  flftoan 
minutes,  during  which  we  were  meditating  upon  it* 
Then  the  read  another  chaptei  of  equal  length  on  a 
different  subject,  and  we  meditated  upon  that  ano- 
ther quarter  of  an  hour ;  and  after  a  third  reading 
and  meditation,  we  finished  the  exercise  with  a 
prayer,  called  an  act  of  contrition,  in  which  we  asked 
forgiven  ess  for  the  sins  committed  during  the  Orison. 

During:  this  hour  and  a  half  I  became  Tory  weary, 
having  before  been  kneeling  for  some  time,  and  hay- 
ing then  to  sit  in  another  position  more  uncomfort- 
able, with  my  feet  under  me,  and  my  hands  clasped, 
and  my  body  bent  humbly  forward,  with  my  head 
bowed  down. 

When  the  Orison  was  over,  we  all  rose  to  the  up* 
right  kneeling  posture,  and  repeated  several  prayers, 
and  the  litanies  of  the  providences,  '*  providence  de 
Dieu,"  &c.,  then  followed  a  numberof  LAtin  prayers, 
which  we  repeated  on  the  way  to  mass,  for  in  the 
nunnery  we  bad  mass  daily. 

When  mass  was  over,  we  proceeded  in  our  usual 
order  to  the  eating-room  to  breakfast,  practising'tlui 
same  forms  which  I  have  described  at  ainner.  BaT-  * 
ing  made  our  meal  in  silence,  we  repeated  the  lita* 
nies  of  the  *'  holy  name  of  Jesus/'  as  we  proceeded 
to  the  community-room ;  and  such  as  had  not  finish- 
ed  them  on  their  arrival,  threw  themselves  upon 
their  knees,  and  remained  there  until  they  had  gone 
through  with  them,  and  then  kissing  the  floor,  rose 
again. 

At  nine  o'clock  commenced  the  lecture,  whieh  was 
read  by  a  nun  appointed  to  perform  that  duty  that 
iay :  ill  the  rest  of  us  in  the  room  being  engaged  in 
w  )rk. 

The  nuns  were  at  this  time  distributed  in  different 
community  rooms,  at  different  kinds  of  work,  and 
each  was  listening  to  aiectnre.  This  exercise  eon* 
tinued  until  ten  o'clock,  when  the  recreation-bell 
rang.     We  sttU  continued  our  work,  but  the  nuns 


^  It, 

I'm- 


40 


AWIOL  mOMtumMB 


beffan  to  eonyene  with  eaoh  other,  on  robjeots  per- 
nuitted  by  the  rules,  in  the  heariD^  of  the  old  nuns, 
one  of  wnoin  was  seated  in  each  of  the  fi^nps. 

At  half-]:  ist  ten  the  silence  bell  ran^^,  and  this  con- 
yersation  instantly  ceased,  and  the  recitation  of  some 
Latin  prayers  commenoed,  which  continued  half  au 
hour. 

At  eleyen  o'clock  the  dinner-bell  ranf?,  and  we 
went  through  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  the  pre- 
cedin?  day.  We  proceeded  two  by  two.  The  old 
nun  who  had  the  command  of  us,  clapped  her  hands 
as  the  first  couple  reached  the  door,  when  we  stop- 
ped. The  first  two  dipped  their  finders  into  the  font, 
touched  the  holy  water  to  the  breast,  forehead,  and 
each  side,  thus  forming  a  cross,  said,  ^  In  the  name 
of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  Amen,"  and 
then  walked  on  to  the  dininjjr.room  repeating  the  li- 
tanies. The  rest  followed  their  example.  On  reach- 
ing the  door  the  couples  divided,  and  the  two  rows 
of  nuns  marched  up,  stopped,  and  faced  the  table 
against  their  plajes.  There  we  stood,  repeating  the 
dose  of  the  litany  aloud.    The  old  nun  pronounced 

"  Benedictb," 
and  we  sat  down.  One  of  our  number  began  to  read 
a  lecture,  which  continued  durin^;  the  whole  meal; 
the  stays  to  eat  after  the  rest  have  retired.  When 
we  had  dined,  each  of  us  folded  up  our  napkin,  and 
again  folded  her  hands.  The  old  nun  then  repeated 
a  short  prayer  in  French,  and  steppiugr  aside  from 
the  head  of  the  table,  let  us  pass  out  aa  we  came  in. 
Each  of  us  bowed  in  passing  the  little  chapel  near 
the  door,  which  is  a  glass-case,  containing  a  waxen 
figure  of  the  infant  Jesus.  When  we  reached  the 
community-room  we  took  onr  places  in  rows,  aiul 
kr.eeled  upon  the  floor,  while  a  nun  read  aloud. 
^'Douleurs  de  notre  Sainte  Marie,"  fthe  sorrows  of 
our  holy  Mary.1  At  the  end  of  each  verse  we  re- 
sponded '*  Ave  Maria."  We  then  repeatod  agaia 
the  litany  of  the  proyidencei  and  tha 


MPKiBU  xomr. 


41 


99 


Then  we  kissed  the  floor,  and,  rising,  took  our  woilri 
with  leave  to  coDTene  on  permitted  8nbject»-*tbi8  is 
what  is  called  recreatum—iiW  one  o'clock.  We  then 
be^an  to  repeat  litanies,  one  at  a  time  in  sucoessiony 
still  engaged  in  sewinfsr*  for  an  hour. 

At  two  o'clock  commenced  the  afternoon  lectures, 
which  lasted  till  near  three.  At  that  bonr  one  of  the 
uuDS  stoud  up  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  asked 
each  of  ns  a  question  out  of  the  catechism ;  and  such 
as  were  unable  to  answer  correctly  were  obliged  to 
kneel,  until  that  exercise  was  concluded,  upon  as 
many  dry  peas  as  there  were  verses  in  the  cnapter 
out  of  which  they  were  questioned.  This  seems 
like  a  penance  of  no  great  importance ;  but  I  have 
sometimes  kneeled  on  peas  until  I  suffered  ^reat  in- 
conveiiience,  and  even  pain.  It  soon  makes  one 
feel  as  if  needles  were  running  through  the  skin ; 
whoever  thinks  it  a  trifle  bad  better  try  it. 

At  four  o'clock  recreation  commenced,  when  we 
were  allowed,  as  usual,  to  speak  to  each  other  wbila 
at  work. 

At  half -past  four  we  bepran  to  rppeat  prayers  In 

Latin,  while  we  worked,  and  concluded  about  five 

o'clock,  when  we  commenced  repeating  the  "  pray* 

ers  for  the  examination  of  conscience,''  the  **  pray* 

I  er  after  confession."  the  "  prayer  before  sacrament^" 

I  and  the  "  prayer  after  sacrament."      Thus  we  oon« 

tinned  our  work  until  dark,  when  we  laid  it  aside, 

I  and  bejran  to  go  over  the  same  prayers  which  we  had 

repeated  in  the  morninfTt  with  the  exception  of  the 

orison  mental ;  instead  of  that  lonff  exercise,  we  ex* 

iamined  our  consciences,   to  determine  whether  we 

ihad  performed  the  resolution   we   had   made  in  the 

imornin?,  and  such  as  had  kept  it  repeated  an  **  acte 

tdeioie,"  or  expression  of  gratitude ;  while  eaohae 

jhad  not,  said  an  "  acte  de  contrition." 

When  the  prayers  were  concluded,  any  nnn  who 
tad  been  disobedient  iu  the  day,  knelt  and  asked 


42 


AWWUL  BIBCMSUBBB 


fMurdon  of  fhe  Soperior  and  her  oompaniont  '*  for  the 
•oandal  she  had  caused  fhem,"  ana  tiien  requested 
fhe  Saperior  to  give  her  a  penance  of  perform.  When 
all  the  penances  had  been  imposed,  we  all  proceed- 
ed to  the  eating*room  to  supperi  repeating  litanies 
on  the  way. 

At  sapper,  the  ceremonies  were  the  same  as  at 
dinner,  except  that  there  was  no  lecture  read.    We 
ate  in  silence,  and  went  out  bowing  to  the  chapelle, 
and  repeatin|;  litanies.    Betuming  to  the  commun- 
ity-room,  which  we  had  left,  we  had  more  prayers  to 
repeat,  which  are  called  La  cowronne^  (crown,)  which 
consists  of  the  following  parts : 
Ist.    Four  jPaters. 
2nd.  Four  Ave  Marias. 
8rd.   Four  Gloria  Patria. 
4th.    Beuissez,  Santeys. 
At  the  close  of  these  we  kissed  the  floor ;  after  which 
we  had  recreation  till  half-past  eight  o'clock,  being 
allowed  to  conyerse  on  pei  mitted  subjects,  but  close- 
ly watched,  and  not  allowed  to  sit  in  the  comers. 

At  half -past  eight  a  bell  was  rung,  and  a  chap- 
ter was  read  to  us,  in  a  book  of  meditations,  to  em- 
ploy our  minds  upon  during  our  waking  hours  at 
night. 

Standing  near  the  door,  we  dipped  our  fingers  in 
the  holy  water,  crossed  and  blessed  ourselyes,  and 
proceeded  up  to  the  sleeping-room  in  the  usual  or- 
aer,  two  by  two.  When  we  had  got  into  bed,  we  re- 
peated a  i^ayer  beginuing  with, — 

*'  Mon  Dieu,  je  tous  donne  mon  coeur,"-— 
•*  My  God,  I  give  you  my  heart ;" 
and  then  an  old  nun,  bringing  some  holy  water, 
sprinkled  it  on  our  beds  to  drive  away  the  devil,  while 
we  took  some  and  crossed  ourselves  again. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  bell  rang,  and  all  who  were 
awake  repeated  a  prayer,  called  the  offrande ;  these 
who  were  asleep  were  considered  as  excused. 

After  my  adoiission  among  the  nuns,  I  had  mors 


J!^:^. 


OV  XiBU  HONE. 


4S 


opportunity  than  before  to  obeerre  the  oondnot  of 
mad  Jane  Baj.  She  behayed  auite  di£Ferently  from 
the  rest,  and  with  a  degree  of  levity  irreconcilable 
with  the  rales.  She  was,  as  I  have  described  hefi 
a  large  woman,  with  nothing  beautiful  or  attractive 
iu  her  face,  form,  or  manners ;  careless  in  her  dresS| 
and  of  a  restless  disposition,  which  prevented  her 
from  applying  herself  to  anything  for  any  length  of 
time,  and  kept  her  roving  about,  and  almost  per- 
petually talkmg  to  somebody  or  other.  It  would 
be  very  difficult  to  give  an  accurate  description  of 
this  singular  woman ;  dressed  in  the  plain  garments 
of  the  nuns,  bound  by  the  same  vows,  and  accus- 
tomed to  the  same  life,  resembling  them  in  no- 
thing else,  and  frequently  interrunting  all  their  em- 
ployments. She  was  apparently  almost  always 
studying,  or  pursuing  some  odd  fancy ;  now  rising 
from  sewing  to  walk  up  and  down,  or  straying  in 
from  another  apartment,  looking  about,  addresnng 
some  of  us,  and  passing  out  again,  or  saying  some- 
thing to  make  us  laup:h.  But  what  showed  she  was 
no  novelty,  was  the  Uttle  attention  paid  to  her,  and 
the  levity  with  which  she  was  treated  by  the  whole 
nuns ;  even  the  Superior  every  day  passed  over  ir- 
regularities iu  this  singular  person,  which  she  would 
have  punished  with  peuaiicLs,  or  at  least  have  met 
with  reprimands,  in  an  v  other.  From  what  I  saw  of 
her  I  soon  perceived  that  she  betrayed  two  distinct 
traits  of  character ;  a  kind  disposition  towards  such 
as  she  chose  to  prefer,  and  a  pleasure  in  teasing 
those  she  disliked,  or  such  as  had  offended  hert 

CHAPTER  VIIL 
Description  of  apartments  In  the  BUck  Nunnery,  in  order: 
l8tFloor—2nd  Floor— Garret—The  Founder— Superi- 
or's management    with  the  fHends  of  Novices— Edl- 
gious  Ues— Orimlnality  of  ooncealing  sins  al  oonflessimu 

I WXLL  now  give  from  memory  a  general  description 
of  the  interior  of  the  Qonveat  of  Blaok  If  ans,  except 


%J: 


pppi!P""^^iHi^ 


44 


▲WVOL  MMMtDM 


fhe  Uw  aptttmentt  whioh  I  neyw  taw.  I  may  U 
inaomirate  in  tome  thrngs,  as  the  apartments  aud 
pmasagesol  that  spaoioas  building  are  namerous 
and  various ;  but  I  am  willing  to  risk  my  credit  for 
truth  and  sincerity  on  the  general  correspondence 
•between  my  description  and  things  as  they  are. 
4ad  this  would,  perhaps,  be  as  good  a  case  as  any  by 
which  to  test  the  truth  of  my  statements,  were  it 
possible  to  obtain  access  to  the  interior.  It  is  well 
known,  tiiat  none  but  veiled  nuns,  the  bishop  aud 
priests,  are  ever  admitted :  and,  of  course,  that  I 
cannot  have  seen  what  I  profess  to  describe,  if  I 
have  not  been  a  black  nun.  The  priests  who  read 
this  book  will  acknowledge  to  themselves  the  truth 
of  my  description ;  but  will,  of  course,  deny  it  to 
the  world,  and  probably  exert  themselves  to  destroy 
my  credit.  I  offer  to  every  reader  the  following  de« 
scription,  knowing  that  time  may  possibly  throw 
upen  those  sacred  recesses,  and  allow  the  eutrauoa 
of  those  who  can  satisfy  themselves,  with  their  own 
eyes,  of  its  truth.  Some  of  my  declarations  may 
he  thought  deficient  in  evidence,  aud  this  they 
must  of  necessity  be  in  the  present  state  of  thiugg. 
But  here  is  a  kiod  of  evidence,  on  which  I  rely,  as  I 
see  how  unquestiouable  and  satisfactory  it  must 
prove,  whenever  it  Shall  be  obtained. 

If  ttie  interior  of  the  Black  Nunnery,  whenever  it 
shall  be  examined,  is  materially  different  from  the 
following  description,  then  I  shall  daim  no  confi- 
dence, of  my  reaaers.  If  it  resemble  it.they  will,  I 
persume,  piace  coufideuce  in  some  of  these  declara- 
tions, on  which  I  may  never  be  corroborated  by 
troe  and  living  witnesses. 

I  am  sensible  that  great  changes  may  be  made  in 
the  f uruiture  of  apartments ;  that  new  walls  may 
be  constructed,  or  old  ones  removed ;  and  I  have 
been  incredibly  informed,  that  masons  have  been 
employed  in  the  Nunnery  since  I  left  it.  I  well 
know,  howeveTi  that  entire  changes  cannot  be  madu, 


otxABunnu 


it 


and  that  enough  must  remain  as  it  was  to  substan- 
tiato  my  deiscription,  whenerer  the  truth  shall  be 

The  First  Story. 

Beginning  at  the  extremity  of  the  western  wing 
of  the  Gouyeut  towards  Notre  Dame  street,  on  the 
first  story,  there  is— 

Ist.  The  Nuus'  private  chapel  adjoining  which  ie 
apassage  to  a  small  projection  of  the  building  ex- 
tending from  the  upper  storyto  the  ground,  with 
Tcry  small  windows.  Into  the  passage  we  were 
sometimes  required  to  bring  wood  from  the  yard, 
and  pile  it  up  for  use. 

2ud.  A  large  community-room,  with  plain  benches 
fixed  against  the  wall  to  sit,  and  lower  ones  in  front 
to  place  our  feet  upon.  There  is  a  fountain  in  the 
passage  near  the  chimney  at  the  further  end,  for 
washing  the  hands  and  face,  with  a  green  curtain 
sliding  on  a  rod  before  it.  This  passage  leads  to  the 
old  nuns'  sleeping-room  on  the  ri^ht,  andtheSuperi« 
or' 8  sleeping-room  just  beyond  it,  as  well  as  to' a 
stair-case  which  conducts  to  the  nuns'  sleeping-room, 
or  dormitoire  above.  At  the  end  of  the  passage  is  a 
door  opening  into— 

3r(l.  The  dining-room ;  this  is  larger  than  the  oom^ 
muuity-room,  and  has  three  long  tables  for  eating, 
and  a  chapelle,  or  collection  of  little  pictures,  a  era- 
cifix,  and  a  small  image  of  the  infant  Sayioor  in  m 
class  case.  This  apartment  has  four  doors,  by  the 
first  of  which  we  are  supposed  to  have  enteiecL 
while  one  opens  to  a  pantry,  and  the  third  ana 
fourth  to  the  two  next  apartments. 

4th.  A  large  community-room,  with  tables  for 
sewing,  and  a  stair*case  on  the  opposite  left-hand 
comer. 

6th.  A  community-room  for  prayer  used  by  both 
nuns  and  novices.  In  the  further  right-hand  eor* 
iner  is  a  small  room,  partitioned  off,  called  the  toom 
for  examination  of  oonsoieQcei  whioh  I  had  Tioited 


rwmm 


ww'i^"^'* 


,  IR      L*-  i'" 


u 


klTt^h  TMttMvmM 


while  a  novice  by  permission  of  the  Superior,  and 
where  nuns  and  novices  occasionally  resorted  to 
reflect  on  their  character,  nsaally  in  preparation  for 
the  sacrament,  or  when  thej  had  transgressed  some 
of  their  rules.  This  little  room  was  hardly  large 
enough  to  contain  half  a  dozen  pennons  at  a  time. 

6th.  Next,  beyoud,  is  a  large  community-room  for 
Sundays.  ▲  door  leads  to  the  yard,  and  thence  to  a 
gate  in  the  wall  on  the  cross  street. 

7th.  Adjoining  this  is  a  sitting  room,  fronting  oa 
the  cross  street,  with  two  windows,  and  a  store  room 
on  the  side  opposite  them.  There  is  but  little  f  ur* 
nitore,  and  that  very  plain. 

8th.  From  this  room  a  door  leads  into  what  I  may 
call  the  wax-room,  as  it  3ontains  many  figures  in 
wax,  not  intended  for  sale.  There  we  sometimes 
used  to  pray,  or  meditate  on  the  Saviour's  passion. 
This  room  projects  from  the  main  building  ;  leaving 
it,  you  enter  a  long  passage,  with  cupboards  on  the 
right,  in  which  are  stored  crockery- ware,  knives  and 
forks,  and  other  articles  of  table  furniture,  to  replace 
those  worn  out  or  broken — all  of  the  plainest  de- 
scription; also,  shovels,  tongs,  &c.  This  passage 
leads  to — 

0th.  A  comer  room,  with  a  few  benches,  &e.,  and 
a  door  leading  to  a  gate  in  the  street.  Here  some 
of  the  medicines  were  kept,  and  persons  wei*e  often- 
admitted  on  business,  or  to  obtain  medicin*9S  witii 
tickets  from  the  priests  ;  and  waited  till  the  Supe- 
^  rior  or  an  old  nun  could  be  sent  for.  Beyond  this 
'  room  we  never  were  allowed  to  go :  and  I  cannot 
speak  from  personal  knowledge  of  wnat  came  next. 

The  Second  Story. 

Beginning,  as  before,  at  the  western  extremitv  of 
the  north  wing,  but  on  the  second  story,  the  f  urtbeit 
apartment  in  that  dire^^tion  which  I  ever  entered  was, 

1st.  The  nuns*  sleeping-room,  or  dormitoire,  which 
I  have  already  descnbed.  Here  is  an  aooess  to  the 
projeetioii  mentioned  in  speaking  of  the  firat  storj* 


The  stairs  b 
further  end  ( 
and  font  of 
room  opens  i 
and  closets  1 
Next  you  ent 

2nd.    A  so 

\  passaoje  w 

which  leads  i 

I  fourth  story. 

ed,  you  enter 

3rd.    A  lit 

lowing  mam 

siile,  covered 

table  in  the 

I  books,  an  iiili 

projection  in 

I  ing  from  abo 

munication 

a  door  openii 

I  yard,  on  the 

iTito  the  crosj 

ndmitted,  ez< 

When  he  con 

til  a  nun  goe 

see  if  all  is  n 


^^mm 


tf9  xiBU  imrc 


47 


The  stairs  by  wLiuh  we  oame  up  to  bed  are  at  tUo 
further  end  of  the  room ;  and  near  them  a  oraoiflx 
and  font  of  holy  water.  A  door  at  tbe  end  of  the 
room  opens  into  a  paaaage,  with  two  small  rooms, 
and  closets  between  them,  oontainlng  bed-dothes. 
Next  you  enter,— 

2nd.  A  small  community-room,  beyond  which  is 
"^  passage  with  a  narrow  staircase,  seldom  used, 
which  leads  into  the  fourth  commnnity-room,  in  the 
fourth  story.  Following  the  passage  just  mention- 
ed, you  enter  by  a  door, — 

3rd.  A  little  sitting-room,  furnished  in  the  fol* 
lowing  manner :— with  chairs,  a  sofa  on  the  north 
side,  covered  with  a  red-figured  coyer  and  fringe ;  a 
table  in  tbe  middle,  commonly  bearing  one  or  two 
books,  an  inkstand,  pen,  &o.  At  oneoornerisa  little 
projection  into  tbe  room,  caused  by  a  staircase  lead- 
ing from  above  to  tbe  floor  below,  without  any  com- 
munication with  the  second  story.  This  room  has 
a  door  opening  upon  a  staircase  leading  down  to  the 
yard,  on  tbe  opposite  side  of  which  is  a  gate  opening 
into  tbe  cross  street.  By  this  way  tbe  physician  is 
ndmitted,  except  when  he  comes  later  than  usaaU 
When  he  comes  in,  he  usually  sits  a  little  while,  un- 
til a  nun  goes  into  the  adjoining  nuns'  sick-room,  to 
see  if  all  is  ready,  and  returns  to  admit  him.  After 
prescribing  for  tbe  patients,  he  goes  no  further,  but 
returns  by  tbe  way  be  enters ;  and  these  are  the  only 
rooms  into  which  he  is  ever  admitted. 

4th.  The  nuns'  sick-room  adjoins  the  little  rittfng* 
room  on  tbe  east,  and  has,  I  think,  four  windows 
towards  the  north,  with  beds  ranged  in  two  rows 
from  end  to  end,  and  a  few  more  between  them,  near 
tbe  opposite  extremity.  The  door  to  tbe  sitting* 
room  swings  to  the  left,  and  behind  it  is  a  table, 
while  a  glass  case  on  the  right  contains  a  wax  figure 
,  of  tbe  infant  Saviour,  witb  soTeral  sheep.  Near  the 
north-eastern  corner  of  this  room  are  two  doors,  one 
of  which  opens  into  a  long  and  narrow  passage^ 


4S 


kwwn  BiBflUMRnM 


leading  to  the  lead  of  the  f^eat  stairoase  that  oon* 
ducts  S>  the  orott  street.  By  this  passage  the  phTsi- 
cian  sometimes  finds  his  way  to  the  sick-room,  when 
he  comes  later  than  usual.  He  rings  the  hell  at  the 
gate,  which  I  was  told  had  a  concealed  pull,  kuowo 
only  to  him  and  the  priests,  proceeds  up  stairs  and 
through  the  passage,  rapping  three  times  at  the  door 
of  the  sick-room,  whicn  is  opened  hy  a  nun  in  at- 
tendance, after  she  has  given  one  rap  in  reply. 
When  he  has  visited  his  patients  and  prescribed  for 
them,  he  returns  by  the  same  way. 

6th.  Next  beyond  the  sick-room,  is  a  large  unoc- 
cupied apartment,  half  divided  by  two  partial  parti- 
tions, which  leave  an  open  space  in  the  middle.  Here 
some  of  the  old  nuns  commonly  meet  in  the  day  time. 
6th.  A  door  from  this  apartment  opens  into  ano- 
ther, not  appropriated  to  any  peculiar  use,  but  con- 
taining a  table,  where  medicines  are  sometimes  pre- 
pared by  an  old  nun,  who  is  usually  found  there. 
Pikssing  through  this  room,  you  enter  a  passage,  with 
doors  on  its  four  sides ;  that  on  the  left,  which  is 
kept  fastened  on  the  inside,  leads  to  the  staircase 
and  gate ;  and  that  in  front  to  the  private  sick- 
rooms, soon  to  be  described. 

7th.  That  on  the  riizht  leads  to  another,  appro- 
priated to  nuns  suffering  with  the  most  loathsome 
disease.  There  was  usually  a  number  of  straw  mat- 
tresses in  that  room,  as  I  well  know,  having  helped 
to  carry  them  in,  after  the  yard-man  had  filled  them. 
A  door  beyond  enters  into  a  store-room,  which  ex- 
tends also  beyond  this  apartment.  On  the  right, 
another  door  opens  into  another  passage,  crossing 
which,  vou  enter  by  a  door. 

8th.  A  room  with  bed  and  screen  in  one  comer,  on 
which  nuns  were  laid  to  be  examined,  before  their 
introduction  into  the  sick-room  last  mentioned. 
Another  door,  opposite  the  former,  opens  into  a  psi* 
sage,  in  which  is  a  staircase  leading  down. 

9th.  Beyond  this  is  a  spare  room,  sometimes  used 
to  store  applesi  boxes  of  different  iningSifto. 


OV  XABUlIOinL 


40 


lOih.  Betuminf^  now  to  the  paMa^ft  which  opeut 
on  one  side  updn  the  stairs  to  the  ffate,  we  enter  the 
only  remaining  door,  which  leads  into  an  apartment 
usually  occupiec'i  hy  some  of  the  old  nuns,  and  Ire* 
fluently  by  the  Superior. 

nth  and  12th.  Boyond  this  are  two  more  siclc- 
rooms,  in  one  of  which  those  nuns  stay  who  are  wait- 
ing their  necouchmeut,  and  in  the  other  those  who 
have  passed  it. 

13th.  The  next  is  a  small  sitting-room,  where  a 
priest  waits  to  ba}>tize  the  infants  previous  to  their 
murder.  A  ]>a8sa!?e  leads  from  this  room  on  the  left, 
by  the  doors  of  two  succeeding  apartments,  neither 
of  which  have  I  ever  entered. 

14th.  The  first  of  them  is  the  **  holy  retreat/'  or 
room  occupied  by  the  priests,  while  suffering  the 
penalty  of  their  licentiousness. 

15th.  The  other  is  a  sitting-room,  to  which  thej 
have  access.  Beyond  these,  the  passage  leads  to  two 
rooms,  containing  closets  for  the  storage  of  various 
articles ;  and  two  others,  where  persons  are  receired 
who  come  on  business. 

The  public  hospitals  succeed,  and  extend  a  con* 
siderable  distance— I  believe,  to  the  extremity  of  the 
I  building.  By  a  public  entrance  in  that  part,  priests 
I  often  come  into  the  Nunnery ;  and  I  have  often  seen 
some  of  them  thereabouts,  who  must  have  entered 
I  that  way.  Indeed,  pri^^sts  often  get  into  the  **  holy 
retreat'*  without  exposing  themselves  in  the  view  of 
[persons  in  the  other  parts  of  the  Convent,  and  have 
iDeen  first  known  to  be  there,  by  the  yard-nuns  being 
jsent  to  the  Seminary  for  their  clothes. 

The  Congreirational  Nunnery  was  founded  bj  a 
|nun,  called  Sister  Bourgeoise.  She  taught  a  school 
in  Montreal,  and  left  property  for  the  foundation  of 

Convent.     Her  body  is  buried,  and  her  heart  is 

tept  under  the  Nunnery  in  an  iron  chest,  which  has 

)een  shown  to  me,  with  the  assurance  that  it  conti* 

mes  in  perfect  preservation,  although  she  has  been 

174  x> 


*    r 


CO 


AWVCfli  BlflCQjOStJBSl 


dead  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  years.  In  the 
ohapel  is  the  following  inscription :  "  Soeor  Bour- 
^eoise,  londatrioe  du  Convent.'*  (Sister  Boargeoise, 
Founder  of  the  Convent.) 

Kothiug  was  more  common  than  for  the  Superior 
to  step  hastily  into  our  community-room,  while  num- 
bers of  us  were  assembled  there,  and  hastily  commu* 
nioate  her  wishes  in  words  like  these  :— 

"Here  are  the  parents  of  sucb  a  novice;  come 
with  me,  and  bear  me  out  in  this  story."  She  would 
then  mention  the  outlines  of  a  tissue  of  falsehoods 
she  had  just  invented,  that  we  might  be  prepared  to 
fabricate  circumstaQces,  and  throw  in  whatever  else 
might  favour  the  deception.  This  was  justified  and 
indeed  most  highly  commanded,  by  the  system  of 
faith  by  which  we  are  instructed. 

It  was  a  common  remark  always  at  the  initiation 
of  a  new  nun  into  the  Black  nun  department,  that  is, 
to  receive  the  black  veil,  that  the  introduction  of 
another  novice  into  the  convent  as  a  veiled  nun,  al- 
ways caused  the  introduction  of  a  veiled  nun  into 
heaven  as  a  saint,  which  was  on  account  of  the  sin- 
gular disappearance  of  some  of  the  older  nuns  always 
at  the  entrance  of  new  ones. 

To  witness  the  scenes  which  often  occurred  be- 
tween us  and  strangers  would  have  struck  a  person* 
most  powerfully,  if  he  had  known  how  truth  was  set 
at  nought.  The  Superior,  with  a  serious  and  digni- 
fied air,  and  a  pleasant  voice  and  aspect,  would  com- 
mence a  recital  of  things  most  favourable  to  the 
character  of  the  absent  novice,  representing  her 
equally  fond  of  her  situation,  and  beloved  by  the 
otber  mmates.  The  tale  told  by  the  Superior,  what- 
ever it  was,  however  unheard  before  might  have 
been  any  of  her  statements,  was  then  attested  by  us, 
who  in  every  way  we  could  think  of,  endeavoured  to 
oonfirm  her  declarations  beyond  the  readi  of  doubt. 

Sometimes  the  Superior  would  entrust  thomaaage- 
mant  of  snob  a  oaae  to  aom«  of  tbr  aiiii%  wbgH^  to 


ov  msu  vomc 


«1 


habitaate  us  to  the  practice  in  which  she  wasao 
highly  aooompliahed,  or  to  relieve  heraelf  of  what 
woald  have  been  a  serious  burden  to  most  other 
persons,  or  to  ascertain  whether  she  oould  depend 
upon  us,  or  all  together,  I  cannot  tell.  X)f  ten,  how- 
ever, have  I  seen  her  throw  open  a  door,  and  say,  in 
a  hurried  manner,  **  Who  can  tell  the  best  story  P" 

One  point,  on  which  we  have  received  frequent 
and  particular  instructions  was,  the  nature  of  false- 
hoods. On  this  subject  I  have  heard  many  a  speech, 
I  had  almost  said  many  a  sermon ;  and  I  was  led  to 
believe  that  it  was  one  of  great  importauoe,  one  on 
which  it  was  a  duty  to  be  well  informed,  as  well  as 
to  act.  **  What!"  exclaimed  a  priest  one  day— «*  what, 
a  nun  of  your  age,  and  not  know  the  difference  be- 
tween  a  wicked  and  a  religious  lie  !" 

He  then  went  on,  as  had  been  done  many  times 
previously  in  my  hearing,  to  show  the  essential  dif- 
ference between  the  two  different  kinds  of  falsehoods* 
A  lie  told  merely  for  the  injury  of  another,  for  our 
own  interest  alone,  or  for  no  object  at  all,  he  painted 
as  a  sin  worthy  of  penance.— But  a  lie  told  for  the 
good  of  the  church  or  convent,  was  meritorious,  and 
of  course  the  telling  of  it  a  duty.  And  of  this  class 
of  lies  there  were  many  varieties  and  shades.  This 
doctrine  has  been  inculcated  on  me  and  my  eompa- 
Dions  in  the  nunnery,  more  times  than  I  can  enu- 
merate ;  and  to  say  that  it  was  generally  received, 
would  be  to  tell  part  of  the  truth.  We  often  saw  the 
practice  of  it,  and  were  frequently  made  to  take  part 
m  it.  Whenever  anything  which  the  Superior 
thought  important,  could  be  most  conveniently  ac- 
complished by  falsehood,  she  resorted  to  it  withont 
scruple. 

There  was  a  class  of  cases,  in  which  she  more  fra» 
qwently  relied  on  deception  than  any  other. 

The  friends  of  novices  frequently  applied  at  th^ 
uouvent  to  see  them,  or  at  least  to  inquire  alter  their 
welfare.   It  was  eommon  for  them  to  be  politely  la* 


^."lltffll.Wf   "'■ 


62 


▲wvoL  msoz^MnndKi 


fused  an  interview,  on  some  aooonut  or  other,  gene- 
xally  a  mere  pretext ;  and  then  the  Superior  generally 
sought  to  make  as  favourable  an  impression  as  pos- 
sible on  the  visitors.  Sometimes  she  would  make  u]) 
a  story  on  the  spot,  and  tell  the  strangers ;  requiring 
some  of  us  to  confirm  it  in  the  most  convincing  way 
we  could. 

At  other  times  she  would  prefer  to  make  over  to 
us  the  task  of  deceiving,  and  we  were  commended  iu 
proportion  to  our  ingenuity  and  success.  ^ 

Some  nun  usually  showed  her  submission,  by  im- 
mediately stepping  forward.  She  would  then  add, 
perhaps,  that  the  parents  of  such  a  novice,  whom 
she  named,  were  iu  waiting,  and  it  was  necessary 
that  they  should  be  told  such  and  such  things.    To 

Serform  so  difficult  a  task  well,  was  considered  a 
ifficult  duty,  and  it  was  one  of  the  most  certain 
ways  to  gain  the  favour  of  the  Superior.  Whoever 
volunteered  to  make  a  story  on  the  spot,  was  sent 
immediately  to  tell  it,  and  the  other  nuns  present 
were  hurried  off  with  her  under  strict  injunctions  to 
uphold  her  in  everything  she  might  state.  The  Su- 
perior, as  there  was  every  reason  to  believe,  on  all 
such  occasions,  when  she  did  not  herself  appear, 
hastened  to  the  apartment  adjoining  that  in  which 
the  nuns  were  goiug,  there  to  listen  through  the  thin 
partition,  to  hear  whether  all  performed  their  parts 
aright.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  her  to  go  rather 
further,  when  she  wanted  to  ^ive  such  explanations 
as  she  could  have  desired.  She  would  then  enter 
abruptly,  and  ask,  *^  Who  can  tell  a  good  story  this 
morning  P"  and  hurry  us  off  without  a  moment's  de- 
lay, to  do  our  best  at  a  venture,  without  waiting  for 
instructions.  It  would  be  curious,  could  a  8tranp:6r 
from  the  **  wicked  world"  outside  the  Convent,  wit- 
ness such  a  scene.  One  of  the  nuns,  who  felt  iu  a 
favourable  humour  to  undertake  the  proposed  task, 
would  step  promptly  forward,  and  signify  her  readi- 
ness in  the  usual  waj»  by  a  knowing  wink  of  out 
wjtf  an4a  iUgfat  Um  of  ttia ' 


us,  we  we 


■  'wmfMf 


W  lCiSI4  KONX* 


M 


<<  Well,  go  and  do  tho  best  you  oan/'  the  Soperior 
would  sa^ :  **  and  all  the  rest  of  you  mind  and  ewear 
to  it."  The  latter  nart  of  the  order,  at  least,  was  id« 
ways  performed  ;  for  in  every  case,  all  the  nuns 
preseut  appeared  as  nnanimous  witnesses  of  everv* 
thiug  tiiat  was  uttered  by  the  spokeswoman  of  the 
day. 

We  were  oonstantlv  hearing  it  repeated,  that  we 
must  never  a^ain  look  upou  ourselyes  as  our  own ;' 
but  must  remember,  that  we  were  solely  and  irreTo* 
cably  devoted  to  God.  Whatever  was  required  of 
us,  we  were  called  upon  to  yield  under  the  most  so- 
lemn considerations.  I  cannot  speak  on  every  par* 
ticular  with  equal  freedom :  but  I  wish  my  readers 
clearly  to  uuccfstaud  the  condition  in  which  we 
were  placed,  and  the  means  used  to  reduce  ui  to 
what  we  had  to  submit  to.  Not  only  were  Wf  re* 
quired  to  perform  the  several  tasks  imposed  npon  us 
at  work,  prayers,  and  penances^  under  the  idea  that 
we  were  performing  solemn  duties  to  our  Maker,  but 
everything  else  wti«<  H  was  required  of  us,  we  were 
constantly  told,  w>t  >«  nethins:  indispensable  in  bis 
si^ht.  The  priests,  v.^  admitted,  were  the  servants 
of  God,  especially  appointed  by  his  authoritv,  to 
teach  us  our  duty,  to  absolve  us  from  sin,  and  lead 
us  to  heaven.  Without  their  assistance,  we  had  al- 
lowed we  could  never  enjoy  the  favour  of  God ;  un- 
less they  administered  the  sacrament  to  us,  we  could 
not  enjoy  everlasting  happiness.  Having  consented 
to  acknowledge  all  this,  we  had  no  objection  to  urge 
against  admitting:  any  other  demand  thatfaiigbtbe 
made  for  or  by  them.  If  we  thought  an  act  ever  so 
criminal,  the  Superior  would  tell  us  that  the  priests 
acted  under  the  direct  sanction  of  Gbd,  andeou^ 
not  sin.  Of  course,  then,  it  could  not  be  wrong  to 
comnly  with  any  of  their  requests,  beoanse  they 
wuld  not  demand  anything  but  what  was  right  Oi 
the  contrary,  to  refuse  to  do  anything  they  asked 
would  necessarily  be  sinfoL    Sudh  doctiioes  admit- 


^ 


▲WfOL  DX8OE1OBUSI8 


U8f  and  snoh  praotfoM  performed,  it  will  not  aeem 
wonderful  when  I  mention  that  we  often  felt  lome* 
thing  of  their  preposterons  character. 

Sometimes  we  took  pleasure  in  ridiouling  some  of 
the  favourite  themes  of  our  teachers ;  and  I  recollect 
one  suhject  particularly,  which  at  one  period  afforded 
us  repeated  merriment.  It  may  seem  irreverent  in 
me  to  give  the  account,  but  I  do  it  to  show  how 
things  of  a  solemn  nature  were  sometimes  treated  in 
the  convent,  by  women  bearing  the  title  of  saints. 
A  Canadian  novice,  who  spoke  very  broken  English, 
otie  day  remarked  that  she  was  performing  some 
duty  **for  the  God."  This  peculiar  expression  had 
something  ridiculous  to  the  ears  of  some  of  us  ;  and 
it  was  soon  repeated  again  and  again,  in  application 
to  various  ceremonies  which  we  had  to  perform. 
Mad  Jane  Bay  seized  upon  it  with  avidity,  and  with 
her  aid  it  soon  took  the  place  of  a  by- word  in  con- 
versation, so  that  we  were  constantly  reminding  each 
other  that  we  were  doing  this  thing  and  that  thiu^. 
how  trifling  and  unmeaning  soever,  *|  for  the  QodJ 
Nor  did  we  stop  here ;  when  the  Superior  called  upon 
us  to  bear  witness  to  one  of  her  religious  lies,  or  to 
fabricate  the  most  spurious  one  the  time  would  ad- 
mit ;  to  save  her  the  trouble,  we  were  Bure  to  be  re- 
minded, on  our  way  to  the  stranger's  room,  that  we 
were  doing  it  **  for  the  God."  And  so  it  was  when 
other  things  were  mentioned— everything  which  be- 
longed to  our  condition  was  spoken  of  in  somewhat 
similar  terms. 

I  have  hardly  detained  the  reader  long  enough  on 
this  subject  to  give  him  a  just  impression  of  the 
itiesslaid  on  confession.  It  is  one  of  the  great 
points  to  which  our  attention  was  constantly  direct- 
ed. We  were  directed  to  keep  a  strict  and  constant 
watch  over  out  thoughts ;  to  have  continually  before 
our  minds  the  rules  of  the  convent,  to  compare  the 
one  with  the  other,  remember  eveijr  devotion,  and 
tell  aUj  oTen  the  smallest,  at  oonf  essioui  either  to  the 


CW  UAMU  xomL 


9i 


Superior  or  to  the  prieai.     My  mind  was  thu  kapl 

in  a  contiQual  •tote  of  activity,  whioh  prored  Tery 
wearisome ;  and  it  required  the  coDttont  exertion  of 
our  teachers  to  keep  us  up  to  the  practice  they  in- 
culcated, • .  . 

Another  tale  recurs  to  me,  of  those  which  wer» 
frequently  told  us,  to  make  us  feel  the  importance 
of  unreserved  confession. 

A  nun  of  our  convent,  who  had  hidden  some  nn 
from  her  confessor,  died  suddenly,  and  without  any 
one  to  confess  her.  Her  sisters  assembled  to  pray 
for  the  peace  of  her  boul,  when  she  appeared,  ana 
informed  them  that  it  would  be  of  no  use,  but  ra- 
ther troublesome  to  her,  as  her  pardon  was  impos- 
sible. The  doctrine  is,  that  prayers  made  for  soula 
guilty  of  un confessed  sin,  do  but  sink  them  deeper 
in  hell;  and  this  is  the  reason  I  have  heard  given 
for  not  pray  in  gf  for  Protestants, 

The  authority  of  the  priests  in  everything,  and 
the  enormity  of  every  act  which  opposes  it,  were  al- 
so impressed  upon  our  minds,  in  various  ways,  by 
our  teachers.  A  "  Father"  told  us  the  following 
story  one  day  at  catechism. 

A  man  once  died  who  had  failed  to  pay  some 
money  which  the  priest  had  asked  of  him ;  he  was 
condemned  to  be  burnt  in  purgatory  until  be  should 
pay  it,  but  had  permission  to  come  back  to  this 
world,  and  take  a  human  body  to  work  in.  He  made 
his  appearance,  therefore,  again  on  earth,  and  hired 
himself  to  a  rich  man  as  a  labourer.  He  worked 
all  day,  with  the  fire  working  in  him,  unseen  by 
other  people ;  but  while  he  was  in  bed  that  night,  m 
cirl  in  an  adjoining  room,  perceiving  the  smSl  of 
brimstone,  looked  through  a  crack  in  the  wall,  and 
saw  him  covered  with  flames.  She  informed  bit 
master,  who  questioned  him  the  nextmoming,  and 
found  that  his  hired  man  was  secretly  sdlferingthA 
pains  of  purgatory,  for  neglecting  to  pay  a  benaiii 
sum  of  money  to  tne  priest.  He,  therefore*  fnndahed 


M 


AWFUL  DXSOLOIUnt 


him  with  fhe  amonnt  due ;  it  was  paid,  aud  the  son 
Tant  went  off  immediately  to  heaTen.  The  priest 
oannot  forgive  any  debt  due  unto  him,  beoaose  it  ia 
the  Lord's  estate. 

While  at  confession,  I  was  nr^red  to  hide  no- 
thing from  the  priests,  and  have  been  told  by  them, 
that  they  already  knew  what  was  in  my  heart,  but 
would  not  tell,  be cnuse  it  necessary  for  mu  to  con- 
fess  it.  I  really  believed  that  the  priests  were  ac- 
quainted with  my  thoughts ;  and  often  stood  in  awe 
of  them.  They  often  told  me,  they  had  power  to 
strike  me  dead  at  any  moment. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Ntms  with  similar  names— Squaw  mina— Fipst  visit  to  the 
cellar— Description  of  it— Shocking  discovvry  there— 
Superior's  instructions— Private  signal  of  the  priests- 
Books  used  in  the  Nunnery— Opinions  expressed  of  the 
Bible — Specimens  of  what  I  know  of  the  Scriptures. 

I  lOTTND  that  I  had  several  namesakes  amon^  the 
nnns,  for  there  were  two  others  who  had  already 
bomo  away  my  new  name.  Saint  Eustace.  This 
was  not  a  solitary  case,  for  there  were  five  Saint 
Marys,  and  three  Baiut  Monros.  besides  two  novices 
of  that  name.  Of  my  namesakes,  I  have  little  to 
say,  for  they  resembled  most  nuns;  bein^  so  much 
cut  off  from  intercourse  with  me  andother  sisters, 
that  I  never  saw  anything  in  them,  nor  learnt  auy- 
thinsr  about  them,  worth  nientioninfif. 

Several  of  my  new  companions  were  squaws,  who 
had  taken  the  veil  at  different  times.^  They  were 
from  some  of  the  Indian  settlements  in  the  country 
but  were  not  distiufi^uishable  by  anystriking  habits 
of  diaracter  from  other  nuns,  and  were  f;^enerally 
not  very  different  in  their  appearance  when  in  their 
nanal  dress,  and  enfi^aged  in  their  customary  occu- 
pationa.  It  was  evident  they  were  treated  with  much 
Kindness  and  lenity  by  the  Superior  and  the  old 
nnns ;  and  this  I  discovered  was  done  in  order  to 


or  luai^  xoiix* 


67 


render  them  at  well  oontented  and  happy  in  thilr 
sitaations  as  possible:  and  should  have  atferibnted 
the  motives  for  this  partiality  to  their  wishing,  that 
they  mi^ht  not  inflaence  others  to  keep  awaj,  had  I 
net  known  they  were,  like  ourselves,  nnable  to  exert 
such  an  influence.  And  therefore,  I  could  not  satis- 
fy my  own  mind  why  this  difference  was  made. 
Many  of  the  Indians  were  remarkably  devoted  to 
the  priests,  believing  everythinfi^  they  were  tanght; 
and  as  it  is  represented  to  be  not  only  a  high  honour, 
but  a  real  adyatitage  to  a  family,  to  have  one  of  its 
members  become  a  nun,  Indian  parents  will  often 
pay  larp:e  sums  of  money  for  the  admission  of  their 
daughters  into  a  convent.  The  father  of  one  of  the 
squaws,  I  was  told,  paid  to  the  Superior  nearly  her 
weight  in  silver  on  her  reception,  although  he  was 
oblip:ed  to  sell  nearly  all  his  property  to  raise  the 
money.  This  he  did  voluntarily,  because  he  thought 
himself  overpaid  by  having  the  advantage  of  her 
prayers,  self-sacrifices,  &c.,  for  himself  and  the  re« 
maiuder  c>f  his  family.  The  squaws  sometimes  serv- 
ed  to  amuse  us ;  for  when  we  were  partially  dispirit- 
ed or  );lo(  my,  the  Superior  would  occasionally  send 
them  to  dress  themselves  in  their  Indian  garments, 
which  usually  excited  us  to  merriment. 

Among  the  equaw  runs  whom  I  particularly  re- 
member, was  one  of  the  Saint  Hypolites,  not  the  one 
who  fia:ured  in  a  dreadful  scene,  described  in  another 
part  of  this  narrative,  but  a  woman  of  a  far  mora 
mild  and  humane  character. 

Three  or  four  days  after  my  reception,  the  Superior 
sent  me  into  the  cellar  for  coals  ;  and  after  she  had 
piyen  me  directions,  I  proceeded  down  a  staircase 
with  a  lamp  in  my  hand.  I  soon  found  myself  on 
the  bare  earth  in  a  spacious  place,  so  dark  ttiat  I 
could  not  at  once  distinguish  its  form  or  «ie,  but  I 
observed  that  it  had  very  solid  stone  walls,  and  waa 
arched  overhead,  at  no  great  elevation.  Following 
my  directions,  I  proceeded  onwards  from  tha  loot  of 


* 


58 


AWFUL  DZBQLOBUBM 


th«  italn,  where  appeared  to  be  one  end  of  the  cel- 
lar. After  walking  about  fifteen  paoet,  I  passed 
three  email  doora,  on  the  right,  faatened  with  large 
iron  bolta  on  the  outaide,  pushed  into  posts  of  stone 
work,  and  each  having  a  small  opening  aboye,  cover- 
ed with  a  fine  grating,  aecured  by  a  amaller  bolt. 
On  my  left  were  three  aimilar  doora,  reaembliug 
these,  and  placed  opposite  them. 

Beyond  these,  the  space  became  broader ;  the  doors 
evidently  closed  small  compartments,  projecting 
from  the  outer  wall  of  the  cellar.  I  soon  stepped 
upon  a  wooden  floor,  on  which  were  heapa  of  wool, 
coarse  linen,  and  other  articles,  apparently  deposit- 
ed there  for  occasional  use.  I  soon  crossed  the  floor, 
and  found  the  bare  earth  again  under  my  feet. 

A  little  further  on,  I  iow\d  the  cellar  again  con- 
tracted in  size  by  a  row  of  closets,  or  smaller  com- 
partments, projecting  on  each  side.  These  were' 
closed  by  doors  of  a  different  description  from  the 
first,  having  a  simple  fastening,  and  no  opening 
fiirou^h  them. 

Just  beyond,  on  the  left  side,  I  passed  a  staircase 
leading  up,  and  then  three  doors,  much  resembling 
those  first  described,  standing  opposite  three  more, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  cellar.  Having  passed  these, 
I  found  the  cellar  enlarged  as  before,  and  hsre  the 
earth  appeared  as  if  mixed  with  some  whitish  suh- 
atance,  which  attracted  my  attention. 

Aa  I  proceeded,  I  found  the  whiteness  increase, 
until  the  surface  looked  almost  like  snow,  and  in  a 
abort  time  I  observed  before  me,  a  hole  dug  so  deep 
into  the  earth  that  I  could  perceive  no  bottom.  I 
atopped  to  observe  it— it  waa  circular,  twelve  or  per- 
hapa  fifteen  feet  across,  in  the  middle  of  the  cellar, 
and  unprotected  by  any  kind  of  curb,  ao  that  one 
mifrht  eaaily  have  walked  into  it  in  the  dark. 

The  white  anbatance  which  I  have  obaerved,  was 
spread  all  over  the  aurfaee  around  it ;  and  lay  in  the 
qnantitiea  on  all  aidea,  that  it  aeemed  as  if  a  great 


ov  uaxul  konk. 


<9 


deal  o(  it  mnit  haTO  been  thro wn  Into  tli«  hohb  II 
immediately  occurred  to  me  that  the  white  enbitanee 
was  lime,  and  that  was  the  place  where  the  infanta 
were  buried,  after  being  murdered,  aa  the  Superior 
had  informed  me.  I  knew  that  lime  ia  often  need 
by  Boman  Catholioa  in  burning  places ;  and  in  that 
way  I  acoounted  for  its  being  scattered  about  the 
spot  in  such  quantities. 

This  was  a  shocking  thought  to  me ;  but  I  can 
hardly  tell  how  it  affected  me,  as  I  had  already  been 
prepared  to  expect  dreadful  things  in  the  Convent| 
and  had  undergone  trials  which  prevented  me  from 
feeling  as  I  should  formerly  have  done  in  similar  cir- 
oamstances. 

I  passed  the  spot,  therefore,  with  dreadful  thonghti^ 
it  is  true,  about  the  little  corpses  which  mi({ht  be  in 
that  secret  burying  place,  but  with  recollections  alao 
of  the  declarations  which  I  had  heard,  about  the  fa* 
vour  done  their  souls  in  sending  them  direct  to  hea* 
ven,  and  the  necessary  yirtue  accompanying  all  the 
actions  of  the  priests. 

Whether  I  noticed  them  or  not  at  the  time,  there 
is  a  window  or  two  on  each  side  nearly  against  the 
hole,  in  at  which  are  sometimes  thrown  arUdei 
brought  to  them  from  without,  for  the  use  of  the 
Convent.  Through  the  window  on  my  right,  whioh 
opens  into  the  yard,  towards  the  cross  street,  lime  ie 
received  from  carts ;  I  then  saw  a  large  heap  of  it 
near  the  place. 

Passing  the  hole,  I  came  to  a  spot  where  was  ano- 
ther projection  on  each  side,  with  three  cells  like 
those  I  first  described.  Beyond  them,  in  another 
broad  part  of  the  cellar,  were  heaps  ox  yegetablea. 
and  other  things,  on  the  right ;  and  on  the  left,  I 
found  the  charcoal  I  was  in  search  of.  Thie  wae 
placed  in  a  heap  against  the  wall,  as  I  might  then 
ba^e  obsenred,  near  a  email  high  window,  uka  the 
rest,  at  which  it  is  thrown  in.  Beyond  thie  spot^ 
at  a  distance,  the  cellar  terminated. 


60 


▲WVUL  I>IKMSmi8 


The  top,  quite  to  that  point,  is  arohed  OTerheadi 
thoagh  at  different  heights,  for  the  earth  on  the  bot- 
tom IS  uneven,  and  in  some  places  several  feet  higher 
than  in  others. 

Not  hkiog  to  be  alone  in  so  spacious  and  gloomy 
a  part  of  the  Oonvent,  especially  after  the  discoTery 
I  had  made,  I  hasteued  to  fill  my  basket  with  coal, 
and  to  return. 

Here  then  I  was  in  a  place  which  I  had  consider- 
ed as  the  nearest  imitation  of  heaven  to  be  found  ou 
earth,  amongst  a  society  where  deeds  were  constant- 
ly perpetrated,  which  I  had  believed  to  be  most  cri- 
minal, and  had  now  found  the  place  in  which  harm- 
less infants  were  unfeelingly  thrown  out  of  sight, 
after  being  murdered. 

And  yet,  such  is  the  power  of  instruction  and  ex- 
ample, although  not  satisfied,  as  many  around  me 
seemed  to  be,  that  this  was  all  righteous  and  proper, 
I  sometimes  was  half  inclined  to  believe  it,  for  the 
priests  could  do  no  sin,  and  this  was  done  by  priests. 

Among  the  first  instructions  I  received  from  the 
Superior,  were  such  as  prepared  me  to  admit  priests 
into  the  nunnery,  from  the  street,  at  irregular  hours. 
It  is  no  secret  that  priests  enter  and  go  out ;  but  if 
they  were  to  be  watched  by  any  person  in  St.  Paul's 
street  all  day  long,  no  irregularity  might  be  suspect- 
ed ;  and  they  might  be  supposed  to  visit  the  Cunvcut 
for  the  performance  of  religious  ceremoniea  merely. 

But  if  a  person  y^ere  near  the  gate  about  midni^iht, 
he  might  sometimes  form  a  difforent  opinion ;  for 
when  a  stray  priest  is  shut  out  of  the  Seminary,  or 
is  otherwise  put  in  the  need  of  seeking  a  lodgin^%  he 
is  always  sure  of  being  admitted  into  the  Black  Nuu- 
nery.  JN'obody  but  a  priest  can  ever  ring  the  bell  at 
the  sick-room  door ;  much  less  can  any  but  a  priest 
gain  admittance.  The  pull  of  the  bell  is  entirely 
concealed,  son^where  on  the  outside  of  the  gate,! 
have  been  told. 

He  makes  himself  known  as  a  priest  by  a  peculiar 


-* 


Ot  XILBU  uosnL 


61 


kind  of  hiding  fiouud,  luaJe  by  the  tou^ne  agaiuitt 
the  teeth  while  they  are  kept  closed  and  the  lips  opeu. 
The  nun  within,  who  delays  to  opeu  the  door  until 
informed  what  kind  of  an  applicant  is  there,  imme- 
diately recognises  the  signal,  and  replies  with  two 
iuarticulate  sounds,  such  as  are  often  used  instead 
of  yes,  with  the  mouth  closed. 

The  Superior  seemed  to  consider  this  part  of  my 
instructious  quite  important,  and  taught  me  the  sig* 
nals.  I  had  often  occasion  to  use  them ;  I  have  been 
repeatedly  called  to  the  door,  in  the  night,  while 
watching  in  the  sick-room ;  and  on  reaching  itj  heard 
the  short  hissing  sound  I  have  mentioned ;  then,  ao« 
cording  to  my  standing  orders,  unfastened  the  door, 
admitted  a  priest,  who  was  at  liberty  to  go  where  ho 
pleased.    I  will  name  M.  Bierze,  from  St.  Denis. 

The  books  used  in  the  uunneryj  at  least  such  as  I 
recollect  of  them,  were  the  foUowmg.  Most  of  these 
are  lecture  books,  or  such  as  are  used  by  the  daily 
readers,  while  we  were  at  work  and  meals.  These 
were  all  furnished  by  the  Superior,  ou6  of  her  li« 
brary,  to  which  we  neyer  had  access.  She  was  in- 
formed when  we  had  done  with  the  book,  and  then 
exchanged  it  for  another,  as  she  pleased  to  select. 

La  Miroir  du  Chretien  (Christian  Mirror,)  History 
of  Borne,  History  of  the  Church,  Life  of  Soeur  Bour« 
geoise,  (the  founder  of  the  Couveut,)  in  two  volumes, 
L'Ange  Couducteur,  (the  Guardian  Aiigel,)  L'Ange 
Chretien,  (the  Christian  Angel,^  Les  Vies  des  Saints, 
(Lives  of  the  Saints,)  in  several  volumes,  DialogueS| 
a  volume  consisting  of  conversations  between  aPco* 
testant  Doctor,  called  Dr.  D.,  and  a  Catholic  gentle- 
man, on  the  articles  of  faith,  in  which,  after  much 
ingenious  reasoning,  the  former  was  confuted  ;  one 
large  book,  the  name  of  which  I  have  forgotten,  oo- 
copied  us  nine  or  ten  months  at  our  lectures,  nisht 
and  morning,  L'Instrnction  de  la  Jeunesse,  (the  In- 
struction  of  Youth,)  oontaining  much  about  Oon« 
Tents,  and  the  edueatioii  ol  persons  in  the  world. 


%•=%  t:'«KJ 


«3 


▲WFTTL  DtMILOStTftSfl 


with  a  great  deal  on  oonfessinns,  &o.  Ezamen  de  U 
OoQBoienoe  (Examination  of  Oonsoieuoe,)  is  a  book 
frequently  used. 

I  may  bere  remark,  that  I  never  saw  a  Bible  in  the 
Oonyent  from  the  day  I  entered  as  a  noyice,  until 
that  on  which  I  effected  my  escape.  The  Catholic 
New  Testament,  commonly  called  the  Evangile,  was 
read  to  us  about  three  or  four  times  a  year.  The 
Superior  directed  the  reader  what  passage  to  select; 
but  we  never  had  it  in  our  hands  to  read  when  we 
pleased.  I  often  heard  the  Protestant  Bible  spoken 
of,  in  bitter  terms,  as  a  most  dangerous  book,  and 
one  which  never  ought  to  beiu  the  hands  of  common 
people. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Hanu&cture  of  bread  and  wax  candles,  carried  on  in  the 
Convent — Superstitions^iScapulai  ies — Virgin  Mairs 
Pincushion— Her  House—Tlie  Bishop's  power  over  fire 
—My  instructions  to  Novices— Jane  Bay— Vacillation 
of  feelings. 

Labqb  quantities  of  bread  are  made  in  the  Black 
Nunnery  everv  week ;  for,  besides  what  is  ueces* 
saryto  feed  the  nuns,  many  of  the  poor  are  sup- 
nlied.  When  a  priest  wishes  to  give  a  loaf  of 
bread  to  a  poor  person,  he  gives  him  an  order,  which 
is  presented  at  the  Convent.  The  making  of  bread 
is,  therefore,  one  of  the  most  laborious  employments, 
in  the  institution. 

The  manufacture  of  wax  candles  was  another  im- 
portant branch  of  business  in  the  nunnery.  It  was 
carried  on  in  a  small  room,  on  the  first  floor,  thence 
called  the  ciergerie,  or  wax  room,  cierge  being  the 
French  word  for  wax.  I  was  sometimes  sent  to 
read  the  daily  lecture  and  catechism  to  the  nuns  em* 
ployed  there,  but  found  it  a  very  unpleasant  task, 
as  the  smell  rising  from  the  melted  wax  gave  me  a 
sickness  at  the  stomach*  The  employment  was  con- 
sidttod  as  rather  nniiealthyy  and  tiioso  wtvi  assign- 


ct  KABU  uotau 


el 


ed  to  it  who  hfld  the  strongest  eoDstitutions.  The 
nuns  who  were  more  employed  in  that  room  were 
Saint  Maria,  Saint  Catherine,  Saint  Charlotte*  Saint 
Hyacinthe,  Saint  Hypolite,  and  others.  But  with 
tbeBe,  as  with  other  persons  in  the  Convent,  I  was 
never  allowed  to  speaK,  except  under  ciroumstanoes 
before  mentioned.  I  was  sent  to  read,  and  was  not 
sllowed  even  to  answer  the  most  trivial  question,  if 
one  were  asked  me.  Should  a  nun  say,  '*  What 
o'clock  is  it  ?"  I  neyer  should  have  dared  to  reply, 
but  was  required  to  report  her  to  the  Superior. 

Much  stress  was  laid  on  the  sainte  scapulairef  or 
holy  scapulary.  This  is  a  small  band  of  doth  or 
silk,  formed  and  wrought  in  a  particular  manner,  to 
be  tied  around  the  neck,  by  two  strings,  fastened  U) 
the  ends.  I  have  made  many  of  them ;  having  been^ 
lometimes  set  to  make  them  in  the  Convent.  Ozkj 
one  side  is  worked  a  kind  of  double  cross,  (thus. 
XX,)  and  on  the  other,  I.  H.  S.,  the  meaning  of 
which  I  do  not  exactly  know.  Such  a  band  is  called 
a  scapulary,  and  many  miracles  are  attributed  to 
its  power.  Cbildreu  on  first  receiving  the  oommn- 
niou  are  often  presented  with  scapularies,  which 
they  are  taught  to  regard  with  great  reverence.  We 
were  told  of  the  wonders  effected  by  their  means,  ^ 
in  the  addresses  that  were  made  to  us,  by  priests,  at 
catechism  or  lectures.  I  will  repeat  one  or  two  of 
the  stories  which  occur  to  me. 

A  Boman  Catholic  servant  woman,  who  had  con* 
cealed  some  of  her  sins  at  confession,  acted  s^^  hy- 
pocritical a  part  as  to  make  her  mistress  believp  her 
a  devotee,  or  strict  observer  of  her  duty.  She  even 
imposed  upon  her  confessor  to  such  a  degree  that 
he  gave  her  a  scapulary.  After  he  had  givr  a  it,  how* 
ever,  one  of  the  saints  m  heaven  inforined  him  in  a 
vision,  that  the  holy  scapulary  must  not  remain  on 
the  neck  of  so  great  a  sinner,  and  that  it  must  be 
restored  to  the  church.  She  lav  down  that  night 
with  the  soapnlaiy  lound  her  thzoat;  Iml  In  m 


<4 


AlfWVh  ]>2BCaU)SnBS8 


morniog  was  found  dead,  with  her  head  out  off,  and 
the  Bcapulary  was  discoyered  in  the  ohurch.The  be- 
lief was,  that  the  devil  oould  not  endure  to  have  so 
holy  a  thing  on  one  of  bis  seryants,  and  had  pulled 
80  hard  4;o  get  it  off,  as  to  draw  the  silken  thread, 
with  which  it  was  tied,  through  her  neck;  after 
which,  by  some  divine  power,  it  was  restored  to  the 
church. 

Another  story  was  as  follows.  A  poor  Boman 
Gatholic  was  once  taken  prisoner  by  the  heretics. 
He  had  a  sainte  scapulaire  on  his  neck,  when  God, 
seeing  him  in  the  midst  of  his  foes,  took  it  from  the 
neck  by  a  miracle,  and  held  it  up  in  the  air  above 
the  throng  of  heretics ;  more  than  one  hundred  of 
whom  were  converted,  by  seeing  it  thus  supema* 
iurally  suspended. 

I  had  been  informed  by  the  Superior,  on  my  first 
admission  as  a  nun,  that  there  was  a  subterraneous 
passage,  leading  from  the  cellar  of  our  Convent,  in- 
to that  of  the  Congregational  Nunnery:  but,  though 
I  had  so  often  visited  the  cellar,  I  had  never  seen 
it.  One  day,  after  I  had  been  received  three  or  four 
months,  I  was  sent  to  walk  through  it  on  my  knees, 
with  another  nun,  as  a  penance.  This,  and  other 
penances,  were  sometimes  put  upon  us  by  the  priests, 
without  any  reason  assigned.  The  common  way, 
indeed,  was  to  tell  us  of  the  sin  for  which  a  penance 
was  imposed,  but  we  were  left  many  times  to  con- 
jectijre.  Now  and  then  the  priest  would  inf(»rm 
us  at  a  subsequent  confession,  when  he  happened  to 
recollect  something  about  it,  as  I  thought,  and  not 
because  he  reflected  or  cared  much  upon  the  subject 

The  nun  who  was  with  me  led  through  the  cellar, 
passing  to  the  right  of  the  secret  burial-place,  aud 
showed  me  the  door  of  the  subterraneous  passage, 
which  was  at  the  extremity  towards  the  Congrega- 
tional Nunnery.  The  reasons  why  I  had  not  notic- 
ed it  before,  I  presume,  were,  that  it  was  made  to 
•hut  oloM  and  even  with  the  waU :  and  all  that  pait 


Of  uasul  iromc. 


M 


of  tbe  cellar  was  whitewashed.  The  door,  which 
ia  of  wood,  and  square,  opens  with  a  latch  into  a 
passage  about  four  feet  and  a  half  hifi^h.  We  imme- 
diately got  upon  our  knees,  commenced  sayinx  ttie 
prayers  required,  and  began  to  moye  slowly  idong 
the  dark  and  narrow  passage.  It  may  be  fifty  or 
sixty  feet  in  length.  When  we  reached  the  end,  we 
opened  a  door,  and  found  ourselves  in  the  cellar  of 
the  Congregational  Nunnery,  at  some  distance  from 
the  outer  wall ;  for  the  covered  way  is  carried  on  to* 
wards  the  middle  of  the  cellar  by  two  low  partitions 
covered  at  the  top.  By  the  side  of  the  door  was 
placed  a  list  of  names  of  the  Black  Nuns,  with  a 
slide  that  might  be  drawn  over  any  of  them.  We 
covered  our  names  in  this  manner,  as  evidence  of 
having  performed  the  duty  assigned  us ;  and  then 
returned  downwards  on  our  knees,  by  the  way  we 
had  come.  This  penance  I  repeatedly  performed 
afterwards ;  and  by  this  way,  as  I  have  occasion 
elsewhere  to  mention,  nuns  from  the  Congregational 
Nunnery  sometimes  entered  our  Convent  for  worse 
purposes. 
We  were  f  reauently  assured  that  miracles  are  still 

{)erformed ;  and  pains  were  taken  to  impress  us  deep- 
yon  this  subject.  The  Superior  of  ten  spoke  to  us 
of  the  Virgin  Marv's  pincushion ,  the  remains  of  which 
are  pretended  to  be  preserved  in  the  Convent,  though 
it  has  crumbled  quite  to  dust.  We  regarded  this 
relic  with  such  veneration,  that  we  were  afraid  even 
to  look  at  it,  and  we  often  heard  the  following  story 
related,  when  the  subject  was  introduced. 

A  priest  in  Jerusalem  once  had  a  vision,  in  whioh 
he  was  informed  that  the  bouse  in  which  tlie  Tir« 
gia  had  lived,  should  be  removed  from  its  founda- 
tions, and  transported  to  a  distance.  He  did  not 
think  the  communication  was  from  Gk>d,  and  ther»* 
fore  disregarded  it ;  but  the  house  was  soon  afttr 
misssd,  which  oonvinoed  him  that  the  vision  was 
tnie,  and  he  tdd  where  the  house  might  be  fouudt 
174  a 


^ 


▲WfUL  mSGEMRTBW 


A  picture  of  the  houie  is  preserred  in  the  Nunnery, 
and  was  sometimes  shown  us.  There  was  also  wax 
figures  of  Joseph  sawing  wood,  and  Jesus,  as  a 
ehild,  picking  up  the  chips.  We  were  taught  to 
sing  a  little  song  relating  to  this,  the  chorus  of 
which  I  rememher : 

**  Saint  Joseph  Garpentier, 
Petit  Jesus  ramassait  les  copeauz 
Pour  faire  houillir  la  marmite  I" 
(St.  Joseph  was  a  carpenter,  little  Jesus  collected 
chips  to  make  the  pot  hoil.^ 

I  began  to  speak  of  miracles,  and  I  recollect  a  story 
of  one,  about  a  family  in  Italy  sayed  from  shipwreck 
by  a  priest,  who  were  in  consequence  conyerted,  and 
had  two  sons  honoured  with  the  priest's  ofBct*. 

I  had  heard,  before  I  entered  the  Conyent,  aboi-t 
a  great  fire  which  had  destroyed  a  number  of  houses 
in  the  Quebec  suburbs,  and  which  some  said  the 
Bishop  extinguished  with  holy  water.  I  once  heard 
a  Catholic  and  a  Protestant  disputing  on  this  sub- 
ject,  and  when  I  went  to  the  Congregational  Nun- 
nery, I  sometimes  heard  the  children,  alludinf?  to 
tbe  same  story,  say,  at  an  alarm  of  fire,  *'  Is  it  a 
Catholic  fire  P  Then  why  does  not  the  Bishop  run  ?*' 
Among  the  topics  on  which  the  Bishop  addressed 
the  nnns  in  the  Conyent,  this  was  one.  He  told  ns 
the  story  one  day,  that  he  could  haye  sooner  inter- 
fered and  stopped  the  fiames,  but  that  at  last,  find- 
ing they  were  about  to  destroy  too  many  Catholio 
houses,  he  threw  holy  water  on  the  fire,  and  extin- 
guished it.  I  belieyed  this,  and  also  thought  that 
fie  was  able  to  put  out  any  fire,  but  that  he  never 
did  it  except  when  inspired. 

The  holy  water  which  the  Bishop  has  eottsecrated, 
was  considered  much  more  efficacious  than  any  hies- 
sed  b^  a  common  priest ;  and  this  it  was  which  was 
used  in  the  Conyent  in  sprinkling  our  beda.  It  bss 
a  yirtue  in  it  to  keep  off  any  eyfl  spirit. 
Now  that  I  was  a  nim,  I  wat  ocoMioMiUy  seat  Is 


Of  icABU  xoirs.  67 

read  lectures  to  the  noTioes,  as  other  nmis  bad  been 
while  I  was  a  noTioe.  There  were  bat  few  of  na 
who  were  thought  capable  of  reading  Bnglish  well 


"  Try  to  oouTort  them— saye  their  souls— yon 
know  yon  will  have  a  higher  place  in  bea?en  for 
eyery  one  you  conyert." 

For  whatever  reason,  Mad  Jane  Bay  seemed  to 
take  great  delight  in  crossing  and  proyoking  tide  Sn» 
perior  and  old  uuns ;  and  oiten  she  would  cause  an 
mterruption  when  it  was  most  inconyenient  and 
displeasing  to  them.  The  presenration  of  silence 
was  insisted  upon  most  rigidly,  and  penances  of 
such  a  nature  were  imposed  for  breaking  it,  that  it 
was  a  constant  source  of  uneasiness  with  me,  to 
know  that  I  might  infringe  the  rules  in  so  many  ways, 
and  that  inattention  might  at  any  moment  subject 
me  to  something  yery  unplea&ant.  During  the  pe* 
riods  of  meditation,  therefore,  and  those  of  lecture, 
work,  and  repose,  I  kept  a  strict  guard  upon  my* 
Belf,  to  escape  penances,  as  well  as  to  ayoid  sin ;  and 
the  silence  of  the  others  conyinced  me  that  thdy 
were  equally  watchful,  and  from  the  same  motiyes. 

My  feelings,  howeyer,  yaried  at  different  times, 
and  so  did  those  of  many,  if  not  of  all  my  compani* 
001,  ezcej^ting  the  older  ones,  who  took  their  tarns 
in  watchmg  us.  We  sometimes  felt  disposed  for 
gaiety,  and  threw  off  all  idea  that  talking  was  sin- 
ful, eyen  when  reauired  by  the  rules  of  the  Oonyant. 
I  even,  when  I  felt  that  I  might  perhaps  be  doing 
wrong,  reflected  that  confession,  and  certainly  pan- 
anoe,  would  soon  wipe  off  the  guilt. 

I  may  remark  here,  that  I  ere  long  found  out  sot* 
eral  things  important  to  be  known  to  a  person  liyiug 
under  such  rules.  One  of  these  was.  thai  it  was 
much  better  to  confess  to  a  priest  a  sin  oommitled 
•guust  th*  roles,  because  ba  would  iK>t  requiia  otta 


11 

- 
i       . 

I 

P 

111 

i 

; 

1 

68 


XWWUL  3MDM0CO89BB8 


of  the  peuauoes  I  most  disliked.  Tiz.,  those  wbioh  ex* 
posed  me  to  the  observatioii  ox  the  nuns,  or  whioh 
demanded  self  •debasement  before  them,  like  beor^ing 
their  pardop,  kissing  the  floor,  or  the  Superior's  fee^ 
ftc,  and,  besides,  he  as  a  confessor  was  DouDd  to  se- 
meojt  and  could  not  inform  the  Superior  against  me. 
My  conscience  being  as  effectually  unburdened  by 
my  confession  to  the  priest,  as  I  had  been  taught  to 
believe,  I  therefore  preferred  not  to  tell  my  sins  to 
any  one  else :  and  this  course  I  found  was  preferred 
by  others  for  the  same  good  reasons. 

To  Jane  Bay,  however,  it  sometimes  appeared  to 
be  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference,  who  knew  her  vio- 
lations of  rule,  to  what  penance  she  exposed  herself. 

Often  and  often,  while  perfect  silence  prevailed 
among  the  nuns,  at  meditation,  or  while  nothinrr  was 
to  be  heard  except  the  voice  of  the  reader  appointed 
for  the  day,  no  matter  whose  I'fa  or  writings  were 
presented  for  our  contemplation,  Jane  would  break 
forth  with  some  remark  or  question,  that  would  at- 
tract general  attt^ntion,  and  ofteu  cause  a  long  and 
total  interruption.  Sometimes  she  would  make  some 
harmless  remark  or  inquiry  aloud,  as  if  through 
mere  inadvertency,  and  then  her  loud  and  well  known 
Toice,  so  strongly  associated  with  every  thing  singu- 
lar and  ridiculous,  would  arrest  the  attention  of  us 
all,  and  generally  incline  us  to  laugh.    The  Superior 
would  then  usually  utter  some  hasty  remonstrance, 
and  many  a  time  I  have  heard  her  pronounce  some 
penance  upon  her;  but  Jane  had  some  apology  ready, 
or  some  reply  calculated  to  irritate  still  further,  or 
to  prove  to  every  one  that  no  punishment  would  be 
effectual  on  her.      Sometimes  this  singular  woman 
would  appear  to  be  actuated  by  opposite  feelings 
and  motives;  for  although  she  usually  delighted  in 
drawing  others  into  difficulty,  and  has  thrown  many 
a  severe  penance  even  upon  her  greatest  favourites. 
on  other  occasions  she  appeared  totallv  regardless  ox 
eonieqaenoee  herselfy  and  preferred  to  take  alltU 
blame^  anzioas  o&ly  to  ihield  others. 


or  UASXk  XOHX. 


69 


I  hate  repeaiedly  known  her  to  bresk  •Qenoa  in 
the  oommuDity,  at  if  she  had  no  object,  or  none  be* 
yond  that  of  causing  disturbance,  or  exciting  a  smile, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  noticed,  exclaim,  *'  Say  it's  me, 
say  it's  me  l" 

Sometimes  she  would  oyen  expose  herself  to  pnn* 
ishment  in  place  of  another  who  was  guilty ;  and 
thus  I  found  it  difficult  fully  to  understand  her.  In 
some  oases  she  seemed  decidedly  out  of  her  wits,  as 
the  Superior  and  priests  coinmoul^  preferred  to  re« 
present  her ;  but  generally  I  saw  in  her  what  pre* 
vented  me  from  accounting  her  insane. 

Among  her  common  tricks  were  such  as  these ;  she 
s:aye  me  the  name  of  the  ''  Devout  English  Reader,'' 
because  I  was  often  appointed  to  read  the  lecture  to 
the  English  girls;  and  sometimes,  after  taking  a 
seat  near  me,  under  pretence  of  deafness,  would 
whisper  it  in  my  hearing,  because  she  knew  my  want 
of  self-command  when  excited  to  laughter.  Thua 
she  often  exposed  me  to  penances  for  a  breach  of  de* 
corum,  and  set  me  to  biting  my  lips,  to  avoid  laugh* 
ing  outri<][ht  in  the  midst  of  a  solemn  lecture.  '*  Oh  I 
you  devout  English  reader  !*'  would  sometimes  come 
upon  me  suddenly  from  her  lips,  with  something  in 
it  80  ludicrous,  that  I  had  to  exert  myself  to  the  at* 
most  to  avoid  observation. 

This  came  so  often  at  one  time,  that  I  grew  nn* 
easy,  and  told  her  I  must  confess  it.  to  unburden  my 
conscience.  I  had  not  done  so  before,  because  she 
would  complain  of  me,  for  giving  way  to  temptation. 

Sometimes  she  would  pass  behind  us  as  we  stood 
at  dinner  ready  to  sit  down,  and  softly  moving  back 
our  chairs,  leave  us  to  fnil  down  upou  the  floor.  Thia 
the  has  repeatedly  done ;  and  while  we  were  lau^h* 
ing  together,  she  would  spring  forward,  kneel  to  the 
Superior,  and  beg  her  pardon  and  a  penauoot 


TO 


Kwwai  mmsimuBm 


OHAFTEB.  XI. 

Aknniiig  order  from  the  Su|ieiior--Proo0ed  tooMoateit— 
Seeno  in  aa  npper  room— Sentenoe  of  deaths  and  mur« 
der— My  own  mstrest— Beporto  made  to  friends  of  St 
SPranees. 
But  I  maat  now  come  to  one  deed  in  which  I  had 
■ome  part,  and  which  I  look  back  upon  with  (greater 
horror  and  pain  than  any  occurrences  in  the  Convent, 
in  which  I  was  not  the  principal  sufferer.  It  is  not 
necessary  for  me  to  attempt  to  excuse  myself  in  this 
or  any  other  case.  Those  who  have  an^  disposition 
to  judge  fairly,  will  exercise  their  own  judgment  in 
maKing  allowances  for  me,  under  the  fear  and  force, 
the  command  and  examples,  before  me.  I,  therefore, 
shall  confine  myself,  as  usual,  to  the  simple  narration 
of  facts.  The  time  was  about  five  months  after  I 
took  the  veil,  the  weather  was  cool,  perhaps  in  Sep- 
tember or  October.  One  day,  the  Superior  sent  for 
me  and  several  other  nuns,  to  receive  her  commands 
at  a  particular  room.  We  found  the  Bishop  and 
some  priests  with  her  ;  and  speakin*;  in  an  unusual 
tone  of  fierceness  and  authority,  she  said,  ^*  Go  to 
the  room  for  the  Examination  of  Conscience,  and 
drag  St.  IVances  up  stairs."  Nothing  more  was  ne- 
cessary  than  this  unusual  command,  with  the  tone 
and  manner  which  accompanied  it,  to  excite  in  me 
the  most  gloomy  anticipations.  It  did  not  strike  me 
as  stran^^e  that  St.  Frances  should  be  in  the  room  to 
whid)  the  Superior  directed  us.  It  was  an  apartment 
to  which  we  were  often  sent  to  prepare  for  the  com- 
munion, and  to  which  we  voluntarily  went,  when- 
ever we  felt  the  compunctions  which  our  ip^norance 
of  duty,  and  the  misinstructions  we  received,  inclin- 
ed us  to  seek  relief  from  self-reproach.  Indeed  I 
had  seen  her  there  a  little  before.  What  terrified 
me  was,  first,  the  Superior's  angry  manner  ;  second, 
the  expression  she  used,  being  a  French  term,  whose 
peculiar  use  I  had  learnt  in  the  Convent,  and  whose 
meaning  is  rather  softened  when  translated  iuto 


09  lOBU  IIOVK. 


71 


drag;  third,  the  place  to  which  we  were  directed  ki 
take  the  intereitinff  young  iiiin»  end  the  penone  iie- 
lembled  there,  ai Irappoaed,  to  condemn  her.  1^ 
fears  were  Buch,  conceminff  the  fate  that  awaitea 
her,  and  my  horror  at  the  idea  that  she  was  in  eome 
way  to  be  sacrificed,  that  I  would  have  given  any- 
thing to  be  allowed  to  stay  where  I  was.  But  I 
feared  the  consequences  of  disobeyiog  the  Sunerior* 
aud  proceeded  with  the  rest  towards  the  room  for  the 
examiuation  of  conscience. 

The  room  to  which  we  were  to  proceed  froQi  that, 
was  in  the  second  story,  and  the  place  of  many  a 
Bcene  of  a  shameful  nature.  It  is  sufficient  to  sav, 
after  what  I  have  said  in  other  parts  of  this  book, 
that  things  had  there  occurred  which  made  me  re- 
gard the  place  with  the  ;;reatest  disgust.  Saint 
Frances  had  appeared  melancholy  for  some  time.  I 
well  knew  that  she  had  cause,  for  she  had  been  re- 
peatedly  subject  to  trials  which  I  need  not  name-— 
our  common  lot.  When  we  reached  the  room  where 
we  had  been  bidden  to  seek  her,  I  entered  the  door, 
my  companions  standing  behind  me,  as  the  place 
was  so  small  as  hardly  to  hold  five  persons  at  a  ume. 
The  young  nun  was  standing  alone,  near  the  middle 
of  the  room ;  she  was  probably  about  twenty,  with 
light  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  a  very  fair  complexion.  1 
spoke  to  her  in  a  compassionate  voice,  but  at  the 
same  time  with  such  a  decided  manner,  that  she  com- 
prehended my  meaning. 
**  Saint  Frances,  we  are  sent  for  yon." 
Several  others  spoke  kindly  to  her,  but  two  ad« 
dressed  her  very  harshly.  The  poor  creature  turned 
round  with  a  look  of  meekness,  and  without  ex- 
pressing any  unwillinprness  or  fear,  without  evea 
speaking  a  word,  resigned  herself  to  onr  hands.  The 
tears  came  into  my  eyes.  I  had  not  a  momentfe 
doubt  Jthat  she  considered  her  fate  as  sealed,  and  wae 
already  beyond  the  fear  of  death.  She  was  conduct- 
ed or  rather  hurried  to  the  staircasO|  which  was  iteay 


,V 


'%!    ^UU-*"l 


n 


▲TflTTL  DIIOEX)SXJBXI 


by,  tnd  fhen  leised  bj  her  limbt  aod  clothes,  and  tn 
faot  almoet  dragged  op  ttairti  in  the  sense  the  So. 
perior  had  intended.  I  laid  my  own  hands  upon  her 
—I  took  hold  of  her,  too,  more  gentlv  indeed  thau 
some  of  the  rest ;  yet  I  enconraged  and  assisted  them 
in  carrying  her.  I  conld  not  avoid  it.  My  refusal 
wonld  not  haTC  saved  her,  nor  preyented  her  from 
being  carried  np :  it  would  ouly  have  exposed  me  to 
some  severe  punishmeut,  as  I  believe  some  of  my 
companions  would  have  seised  the  first  opportunity 
to  compltthi  of  me. 

All  the  way  up  the  staircase,  Saint  Frances  spoke 
not  a  word,  nor  made  the  slightest  resistance.  When 
we  entered,  with  her,  the  room  to  which  she  was  or- 
dered, my  heart  sank  within  me.  The  Bishop,  the 
Lady  Superior,  and  five  priests,  viz.:  Bonin,BichnrHs, 
Savace,  and  two  others,  I  now  ascertained,  were  as- 
sembled  for  trial,  on  some  charge  of  great  imiK)rtance. 

When  we  had  brought  our  prisoner  before  them, 
Father  Richards  began  to  question  her,  and  she  made 
ready,  but  calm,  replies.  I  cannot  pretend  to  give 
a  connected  account  of  what  ensued ;  my  feelings 
were  wrought  up  to  such  a  pitch,  that  I  knew  not 
what  I  did,  or  what  to  do.  X  was  under  a  terrible 
apprehension  that,  if  I  betrayed  the  feelings  which 
overcame  me,  I  should  fall  under  the  displeasure  of 
the  cold-blooded  persecutors  of  my  poor  innocent 
sister ;  and  this  fear  on  the  one  hand,  with  the  dis- 
tress  I  felt  for  her  on  the  other,  rendered  me  almost 
frantic.    As  soon  as  I  entered  the  room,  I  had  step* 

Jed  into  a  corner,  on  the  left  of  the  entrance,  where 
might  partially  support  myself  by  leaning  against 
the  wall  between  the  door  and  the  window.  This 
support  was  all  that  prevented  me  falling  to  the  floor, 
for  the  confusion  of  my  thoughts  was  so  great,  that 
only  a  few  of  the  words  I  heard  spoken  on  either 
side  made  any  lasting  impression  upon  me.  I  felt 
as  if  struck  with  some  innupportabte  blow;  and 
death  would  not  hav»  Heen  more  frightful  to  me*   I 


OV  UAMk  UOVT. 


7S 


am  indined  to  the  bdief  that  Fathtr  Biohardt  with- 
ad  to  shield  the  poor  prisoner  from  the  seTeritvof 
her  fete,  hjr  drawing  from  her  expressions  that 
might  hear  a  f  ayoarahle  oonstruction.  He  asked  her. 
imong  other  things,  if  she  was  now  sorrj  for  what 
she  had  heen  oTerheard  to  saj,  (for  she  had  heen  be- 
trayed by  one  of  the  nuns,)  and  if  she  would  not  pre- 
fer oonfinement  in  theoells  to  the  punishment  wnioh 
was  threatened.  But  the  Bishop  soon  interrupted 
him,  and  it  was  easy  to  perceive,  that  he  considered 
her  fate  as  sealed,  and  was  determined  she  should 
not  escape.  In  reply  to  some  of  the  questions  put 
to  her,  sne  was  silent ;  to  others  I  heard  her  Toice  re- 
ply that  she  did  not  repent  of  words  she  had  utter- 
ed, though  they  had  been  reported  bv  some  of  the 
nuns  who  had  heard  them ;  that  she  had  firmly  re- 
BoWed  to  resist  every  n.Uempt  to  oomiel  her  to  the 
oommiesion  of  crimes  which  she  detested.  She  add- 
ed that  she  would  rather  die  than  cause  the  murder 
of  harmless  babes. 

"  Tliat  is  enoufrh,  finish  her  I**  said  the  Bishop. 

Two  nuns  instantly  fell  upon  the  woman,  and  in 
ohedience  to  directions,  given  by  the  Superior,  pre* 
pared  to  execute  her  sentence. 

She  Rtill  maintained  all  the  calmness  and  submis- 
siou  of  a  lamb.  Some  of  those  who  took  part  in  this 
irausaction,  I  believe,  were  as  unwilling  as  mvself ; 
but  of  ()thers  I  can  safely  say,  I  believe  tney  delight- 
ed in  it.  Their  conduct  certainly  exhibited  a  most 
blood  thirsty  8\)irit.  But  above  all  others  present, 
and  above  all  human  fiends  I  ever  saw,  I  think  Saint 
Hypolite  was  the  most  diabolical ;  she  engaged  in 
the  horrid  tusk  with  all  alacrity,  and  assumed  from 
choice  the  most  revolting  parts  to  be  performed. 
She  seized  a  gag,  forced  it  into  the  mouth  of  the 
poor  nun,  and  when  it  was  fixed  between  her  extend- 
ed  jaws,  so  as  to  keep  them  open  at  their  greatest 
possible  distance,  took  hold  of  the  straps  fastened  at 
each  end  o|  the  stick,  crossed  them  behind  the  help. 


BPIPH^WI^ 


74 


▲WVDL  BBMI&Ofmm 


r* 


iMilMid  of  llMTiettiiii  anddnirtham  tight  thioiigli 
tht  loop  prapartd  as  a  fatteniog. 

ThoMdy  which  had  always  stood  in  one  part  of 
tha  looudf  still  remained  there ;  thoogh  the  screen, 
which  had  usually  heen  placed  before  it,  and  was 
made  of  thick  muslin,  with  only  a  crevice  through 
which  a  person  might  look  out,  bad  been  folded  up 
on  its  hiuges  iu  the  form  of  a  W.,  and  placed  iu  a 
comer.  On  the  bed  the  prisoner  was  laid  with  her 
face  upwards,  and  then  bound  with  cords  so  that  she 
could  not  moye.  In  an  instant,  another  bed  was 
thrown  upon  her.  One  of  the  priests,  named  Bonin, 
sprung  like  a  fury  first  upon  it,  with  all  his  force. 
£Le  was  speedily  followed  by  the  nuns,  until  there 
were  as  many  upon  the  bed  as  could  find  room,  aud 
all  did  what  they  could,  not  only  to  smother,  but  to 
bruise  her.  Some  stood  up  and  lumped  upon  the 
poor  girl  with  their  feet,  some  with  their  knees :  and 
others,  in  different  ways,  seemed  to  seek  how  tl.ey 
might  best  beat  the  breath  out  of  her  body,  nnd 
mangle  it,  without  coming  iu  direct  contact  with  it, 
or  seeing  the  effects  of  their  violences.  During  tins 
time,  my  feelings  were  almost  too  strong  to  be  en- 
dured. I  felt  stupefied,  and  scarcely  was  conscious 
of  what  I  did.  Still,  fear  for  myself  remained  iu  a 
sufficient  degree  to  induce  me  to  soniu  exertion ;  and 
I  attempted  to  talk  to  those  who  stood  next,  partly 
that  I  might  have  an  excuse  for  turning  away  from 
the  dreadful  scene. 

After  the  lapse  of  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  and 
when  it  was  presumed  that  the  sufferer  had  been 
smothered  and  crushed  to  death.  Father  Bonin  aud 
the  nuns  ceased  to  trample  upon  her,  and  stepped 
from  the  bed.  All  was  motionless  and  silent  beneath  it. 

They  then  began  to  laugh  atsuoh  inhuman  thoughts 
as  occurred  to  some  of  them,  reliving  each  other  in 
the  most  unfeeling  manner,  and  ridiculing  me  for 
feelings  which  I  in  vain  endeavoured  to  concenl. 
They  alluded  to  the  resigpation  of  our  murdered  oom« 


Of  XiBU  MOIIX. 


n 


ninion  t  i&d  OM  of  them  taughtliiglj  Mdd,  ^Blio 
would  naTO  made  a  food  OathoUo  martyr/'  Aftm 
spending  tome  momanti  in  inch  oonTorsatioD,  ona 
of  them  aaked  if  the  oorpae  should  be  remoyed.  Tha 
Soperior  said  it  had  better  remaio  a  little  while.  Af- 
ter waiting  a  short  time  longer,  the  feather-bed  was 
taken  off,  the  cords  unloosed,  and  the  body  taken  bj 
the  nuns  and  dragged  down  stairs,  I  was  informed 
that  it  was  taken  into  the  cellar,  and  thrown  uuoere- 
moniously  into  the  hole  which  I  haye  already  de- 
scribed, covered  with  a  great  quantity  of  lime ;  and 
afterwards  spriukled  with  a  liquid,  of  the  properties 
uud  name  of  which  I  am  ignorant.  This  liquid  I 
have  seeu  poured  into  the  hole  from  large  bottles, 
after  the  necks  were  broken  off ;  and  haye  heard 
that  it  is  used  in  France  to  prevent  the  effluvia  rising 
from  cemeteries. 

I  did  not  soon  recover  from  the  shook  caused  by 
this  scene ;  indeed,  it  still  recurs  to  me,  with  most 
gloomy  impressions.  The  next  day,  there  was  a 
melancholy  a8|)ect  oyer  eyerything,  and  recreation 
time  passed  in  the  dullest  nmiiuer;  scifrcely  any- 
thinpf  was  s.ud  above  a  whispjer.  I  never  heard 
much  said  iifterwards  about  Saint  Frances. 

I  spoko  with  one  of  the  nuns,  a  few  words,  one 
day,  but  we  were  all  cautioned  not  to  expose  our- 
selves  very  fur,  and  could  not  place  much  reliance 
in  each  other.  The  murdered  nun  had  been  brought 
to  her  shocUiig  end  through  the  treachery  of  one  of 
our  number  in  whom  she  confided. 

I  never  knew  with  certainty  who  had  reported  her 
remarks  to  the  Superior,  but  suspicion  fastened  on 
one,and  I  never  could  regard  her  but  with  detestation. 

I  was  more  inclined  to  blame  her  than  some  of 
those  employed  in  the  execution ;  for  there  could 
have  been  no  necessity  for  the  betrayal  of  her  feel* 
ines.  We  all  knew  how  to  ayoid  exposing  each  other. 

I  was  often  sent  by  the  Superior  to  overhear  what 
was  said  by  novices  and  nuns,  when  they  seemed  to 


m^^ 


76 


AWWUL  DISCTLO^irilS 


■honlitr;  ahawonldsaT,  *' Gk>  and  liiltii,  th«j  art 
•peaking  Englith;"  aod  though  I  ohayed  her,  I 
nerer  iofonned  her  against  them.  If  i  wished  to 
clear  my  oomdenoe.  I  would  go  to  a  priest  and  con* 
fesi.  knowing  that  ne  dared  not  communicate  what 
I  sud  to  any  person,  and  that  he  would  not  chooie 
as  heary  penances  at  the  Superior. 

We  were  always  at  liberty  to  choose  another  con- 
fessor when  he  had  any  sin  to  confess,  which  wo 
were  unwilling  to  tell  one  to  whom  we  should  other- 
wise haTC  done. 

Not  long  after  the  murder  Just  related,  a  young 
woman  came  to  the  nunnery,  and  asked  for  permis* 
rion  to  see  St.  Frances.  It  was  my  former  friend, 
with  whom  I  had  been  an  assistant  teacher,  Miss 
Louisa  Bousquet,  of  St.  Denis.  From  this,  I  sup- 
posed the  murdered  nun  might  haye  come  from  that 
town,  or  its  vicinity.  The  only  answer  was,  that  St. 
Frances  was  dead. 

Some  time  afterwards,  some  of  St.  Frances'  friends 
called  to  inquire  after  her,  and. they  were  told  that 
she  had  died  a  glorious  death ;  and  further  told, 
that  she  made  some  heavenly  expressions,  which  wero 
repeated  in  order  to  satisfy  her  friends. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Dssoription  of  the  Room  of  the  three  States,  and  the  pio- 
tnresin  it— Jane  Kay-^Ridiculing  Priests —Their  crimi- 
nal treatment  of  ns  at  Confession— Jane  Ray's  tricks 
with  the  Nun's  Aprons,  Handkerchiefli,  and  Night 
Gowns— Apples. 

Thb  pictures  in  the  room  of  the  three  states  wers 
large,  and  paiuted  by  some  artist  who  understood 
how  to  make  some  horrible  ones.  They  appeared  to 
be  stuck  to  the  walls.  The  1i<iht  is  admitted  from 
small  and  high  windows,  which  are  curtained,  and 
is  rather  faint,  so  as  to  make  everything  look  ploomy* 
The  story  told  us  was,  that  they  were  painted  by  an 
artist,  to  whom  Ood  had  giyeu  power  to  represent 


things  eza< 
gatoiT. 

In  hei;7e 
of  the  apar 
put  in  the 
their  head, 
great  num 
who  are  en 

In  purge 

Sort,  called 
ied  unbaf 
part  of  purj 
there  they  ( 
deli?ered  b^ 

In  hell,  tl 
tory,  were  c 
human  face 
gined.  Per 
lented,  with 
plexions,  an 
some  with 
others  f  urioi 
them  in,  wit 
spectator  shi 

Iconld  hi 
were  not  lii 
my  feelings 
place  where 
warning.  I 
iu  every  poi 
Protestants 
much  to  be  l 
their  minist< 
verted. 

Whenevei 
sral  times,  J 
passes;"  th 
long  been  in 
to  play  fori 


m 


or  uAaxjLUoanL 


77 


Ihingt  exaoti J  as  ihej  are  in  hearen,  belli  and  pnr* 

Id  hei;7en,  the  piotare  of  wbioh  hangt  on  ono  dd« 
of  the  apartment,  multitudes  of  nnos  and  priests  are 
put  in  the  highest  places,  with  the  Virgin  Mary  at 
their  head,  St.  Peter  and  other  saints,  far  aboTa  the 
great  uumbers  of  good  Oatholios  of  other  classes, 
who  are  crowded  in  below. 

lo  purgatory  are  multitudes  of  people ;  and  in  one 

S art, called  **  TheploLU  (if  lambs**  are  infants  who 
led  unbaptized.  ^*  The  plcice  of  darkness**  is  that 
part  of  purgatory  in  which  adults  are  collected,  and 
there  they  are  surrounded  by  flames,  waiting  to  be 
delivered  hj  the  prayers  of  the  living. 

In  hell,  the  picture  of  which,  and  that  of  purga- 
tory, were  on  the  wall  opposite  that  of  heaven,  the 
human  faces  were  the  most  horrible  that  can  be  ima- 
gined. Persons  of  different  descriptions  were  repro- 
Bented,  with  the  roostdistorted  features,  ghastly  com- 
plexions, and  everv  variety  of  dreadful  expression ; 
lome  with  wild  beasts  gnawing  at  their  headiL 
others  furiouslv  biting  the  iron  bars  which  ke^ 
them  in,  with  looks  which  could  not  fail  to  make  % 
spectator  shudder. 

I  could  hardly  persuade  myself,  that  the  flrznrei 
were  not  living,  and  the  impression  they  made  on 
my  feelings  was  powerful.  I  was  often  shown  the 
place  where  nuns  go  who  break  their  tows,  as  a 
warning.  It  is  the  hottest  place  in  hell,  and  worae. 
in  every  point  of  view,  even  than  that  to  which  all 
Protestants  are  assigned ;  because  they  are  not  ao 
much  to  be  blamed,  as  we  were  someUmes  assured,  as 
their  ministers  and  the  Bible,  by  which  they  are  per* 
verted. 

Whenever  I  was  shut  in  that  room,  as  I  was  ser. 
eral  times,  I  prayed  for  "  les  &mes  des  fiddles  tra* 
passes ;"  the  souls  of  those  faithful  ones  who  ha¥a 
long  bsen  in  purgatory^  and  haye  ao  laUitioaa  living 
topiayfor^em. 


78 


My  faeUngs  were  often  of  the  most  paiuf al  de- 
loriptioii,  wHile  I  remained  alone  with  tfiose  fright* 
fol  pictures. 

Jane  Bay  was  once  put  in,  and  uttered  the  most 
dreadful  shrieks.  Some  of  the  eld  nuns  proposed  to 
the  Superior  to  have  her  gagged ;  "  No/'  she  replied, 
**  go  and  let  out  that  deyil,  she  makes  me  sin  moro 
than  all  the  rest." 

Jane  could  not  endure  the  place ;  and  she  after- 
Wards  gave  names  to  many  of  the  worst  figures  of 
the  pictures.  On  cateohism-days  she  would  take  a 
seat  Dchind  a  cupboard  door,  where  the  priest  could 
not  see  her,  while  she  faced  the  nuns,  and  would 
make  ns  laugh.  "  You  are  not  so  attentive  to  your 
ICHSons  as  you  used  to  be,"  he  would  be^in  to  say, 
while  we  were  endeavouring  to  suppreBsour  laui^bter. 

Jane  would  then  hold  up  the  first  letter  of  some 
priest*s  name  whom  she  had  before  compared  with 
one  of  the  faces  in  "  hell,"  and  so  look  that  we  could 
hardly  preserve  our  gravity. 

I  remember  she  named  the  wretch  who  was  bitin<< 
at  the  bars  of  hell,  with  a  serpent  gnawing  his  head, 
with  chains  and  padlocks  on,  Father  Dufresue ;  and 
she  would  say — **  Does  he  not  look  like  him,  wlien 
he  comes  in  to  catechism  with  his  long  solemn  face, 
and  begins  his  speeches  with, '  My  children,  my  hope 
IS  that  von  have  lived  very  devout  lives  P'  " 

The  first  time  I  went  to  confession  after  taking  the 
Teil,  I  found  abundant  evidence  that  the  priesta  did 
not  treat  even  that  ceremony,  which  is  called  a  so- 
lemn sacrament,  with  respect  enough  to  lay  aside  the 
shameless  character  they  so  often  showea  on  other 
occasions.  The  confessor  sometimes  sat  in  the  room 
for  the  examination  of  conscience,  and  sometimes  io 
the  Superior's  room,  and  always  alone  except  the 
nnn  who  was  confessing.    He  had  a  common  chair 

e'aced  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  instead  of  be- 
ff  plaoed  behind  a  prate,  or  lattice,  aa  in  thd  cha- 
pel^ nad  nothing  t^f ore  or  around  him.  Thare  were 


no  spectat< 

thmg  woul 

A  numbi 

day,  but  o 

at  a  time. 

door,  on  th 

tion  prescrj 

certain  pra 

time.  Whe 

entered,  an 

even  dared 

I  shall  nc 

under  the  ] 

solution  fr< 

tbau  pardoi 

•mitted,  whi 

monies,  wei 

persuade  m} 

us  I  must  o: 

that  suspici< 

•  ISA  *u.. 


^# 


or  KiBU  man. 


n 


no  spectators  to  obsenra  him,  and  of  ooont  tiiy  •uoh 
thing  would  have  been  unneoefiiary. 

A  number  of  nuns  usually  confessed  on  the  aaaM 
day,  but  only  one  could  be  admitted  into  the  loom 
at  a  time.  They  took  their  places  Just  without  the 
door,  on  their  knees,  and  went  through  the  prepam* 
tion  prescribed  by  the  rules  of  confiwsion  ;  repeating 
certain  prayers,  which  always  occupy  a  considerablo 
time.  When  one  was  ready,  she  rose  from  her  knees, 
entered,  and  closed  the  door  behind  her ;  and  no  one 
STen  dared  touch  the  latch  till  she  came  out. 

I  shall  not  tell  what  was  transacted  at  such  timesi 
under  the  pretence  of  confessing,  and  reneiTiug  ab* 
solution  from  sin ;  far  more  sin  was  often  incurred 
than  pardoned  ;  and  crimes  of  a  deep  dye  were  oom* 
jDitted,  while  trifling  irre<;ularities  in  childish  cere* 
monies,  wore  treated  as  serious  offences.  I  cannot 
persuade  niynelf  to  speak  plainly  on  such  a  subject, 
u8 1  must  offend  the  virtuous  ear.  I  can  only  say, 
that  suspicion  cannot  do  any  injustice  to  the  prieatSi 
because  their  si;is  cannot  be  exaggerated. 

Some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  miinner  in  which 
even  3uch  women  as  many  of  my  sister  nuns,  regard* 
ed  the  father  confessors,  when  I  state  that  there 
WA5>  often  a  contest  amr>n.;  us,  to  avoid  entering  the 
apartment  as  long  as  we  could :  endeavouring  to 
make  each  other  go  first,  as  that  was  what  moat  cl 
usdreadtd. 

During  the  long  and  tedious  days  which  filled  up 
the  time  between  the  occurrences  I  have  mentioned, 
nothing  or  little  took  place  to  keep  up  our  spirits. 
We  were  fatigued  in  body  with  labour,  or  with  ait* 
ting,  debilitated  by  the  long  continunnce  of  our  re* 
ligioiis  exercises,  aftd  depressed  in  feelings  by  our  mi* 
serable  and  hopeless  condition.  Nothing  but  the  hu* 
mours  of  mad  Jane  Ray  could  rouse  us  for  a  me* 
ment  from  our  languor  and  melancholy. 

To  mention  all  her  devices,  would  require  more 
room  thau  is  here  allowed,  and  a  memory  of  almost 


( 


so 


AwwT.  DtMLosmm 


all  her  words  aud  actions  for  years.  I  had  earlv  he. 
oome  a  faTourite  with  her,  and  had  opportunity  to 
loam  more  of  her  charaoter  than  most  of  the  other 
Duns.  As  thie  may  he  learned  from  hearins  what 
she  did.  I  will  here  recount  a  few  of  her  tricks,  just 
SB  they  happen  to  present  themselves  to  my  memory, 
with  reffard  to  the  order  of  time. 

She  one  day,  in  an  uTiaccountahle  humour,  sprink. 
led  the  floor  plentifully  with  holy  water,  which 
brouf^ht  nnon  her  a  severe  lecture  from  the  Superior, 
as  might  have  heen  expected.  The  Superior  said  it 
was  a  heinous  offence :  she  had  wasted  holy  water 
enough  to  save  many  souls  from  purgatory :  and 
what  would  they  not  give  for  it.  She  then  ordered 
Jine  to  sit  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  when  the 
I  riest  came,  he  was  informed  of  her  offence.  In- 
stead, however,  of  imposing  one  of  those  penances 
to  which  she  had  heen  suhjected,  hut  with  so  little 
effect,  he  said  to  her,  *'  Go  to  your  place,  Jane;  we 
foriBfive  you  for  this  time." 

i  was  once  set  to  iron  aprons  with  Jane  ;  aproni 
and  pocket-handkerchiefs  are  the  oTiIy  articles  of 
dress  which  are  ever  ironed  in  the  Convent.  As  soon 
RS  we  were  alone,  she  remarked,  "  Well,  we  are  free 
from  the  rules  while  we  are  at  this  work ;"  and,  nl- 
though  she  knew  she  had  no  reason  for  sayin?  so, 
she  began  to  sing,  and  I  soon  joined  her,  and  thus 
we  spent  the  time,  while  we  were  at  work,  to  the 
neiirlect  of  the  prayers  that  we  ou^^ht  to  have  said. 

We  had  no  idea  that  we  were  in  danger  of  bein|i[ 
overheard,  but  it  happened  that  the  Superior  was 
overhead  all  the  time,  with  several  nuns,  who  were 
prepskring  for  confession  :  she  came  down  and  said, 
'*  How  is  this  P"  Jane  Ray  coolly  replied  that  we 
had  employed  our  time  in  singing  hymns,  and  re« 
f erred  to  me.  I  was  afraid  to  confirm  so  directs 
falsehood,  in  order  to  deceive  the  Superior,  though  I 
hsui  often  told  mote  injuriotis  ones  of  her  fabrios- 
tioD,  or  at  her  ordan,  and  said  very  little  in  reply  to 
Jane's  request 


Of  MASUL  UOJTK, 


n 


The  Superior  plainly  brw  the  triok  that  was  at- 
tempted, and  ordered  us  hoth  to  the  room  for  the 
exaniitiatton  of  conscience,  wliere  we  remained  till 
pight  without  a  mouthful  to  eat.  The  time  was  not, 
howover,  unoccu))ied :  I  received  such  a  lecture  from 
jane  as  I  have  Terj  seldom  heard,  and  she  wns  so 
snpry  with  me,  that  we  did  not  apeak  to  each  other 
for  two  weeks. 

At  lenf^th  she  found  something  to  complain  of 
against  me,  had  me  subjected  to  a  pennnce,  which 
led  to  our  be^ginf^  ench  other's  pardon,  and  we  bH- 
came  perfectly  satisfied,  reconciled,  and  as  good 
friends  as  ever. 

One  of  the  most  disgusting  penances  we  had  ever 
to  submit  to,  was  that  of  drinking  the  water  in 
which  the  Superior  had  washed  her  feet.  Nobody 
could  ever  laugh  at  this  penance  except  Jane  Biy. 
She  would  pretend  to  comfort  us,  by  saying  she  was 
sure  it  was  better  than  mere  plain  clear  water. 

Some  of  the  tricks  which  I  remember,  were  played 
bj  Jane  with  nuns*  clothes.  It  was  a  rule  that  the 
oldest  aprons  in  use  should  go  to  the  youngest  re- 
ceived, and  that  the  old  nuns  were  to  wear  all  the 
new  ones.  On  four  different  occasions.  Jane  stole 
into  the  sleeping-room  at  night,  and  unobserved  by 
the  watch,  changed  a  great  part  of  the  aprons,  plac- 
ing' them  bv  the  beds  of  nuns  to  whom  they  did  not 
boIon;^  The  conseauence  was,  that  in  the  morning 
they  dressed  themselves  in  sucli  haste,  as  neTor  to 
discover  the  mistake  thviy  made,  until  they  were  all 
ranged  at  prayers ;  and  ^.hen  the  ridiculous  api)ear« 
si'ce  which  many  of  them  cut,  disturbed  the  long  de- 
votions. X  laugh  so  easy  that,  on  such  occasions,  I 
usually  incurred  a  full  share  of  penances.  I  general- 
ly, however,  got  a  new  apron,  wnen  Jane  played  this 
frick ;  for  it  was  part  of  her  object  to  give  the  best 
ipiTons  to  he?  favourites,  and  put  off  the  ragged  onei 
00  some  of  the  old  nans  whom  she  most  hated. 

JsLe  oooe  lost  her  poolMt-hAndkMrohief .  The  pen* 


NJ 


t' ' 


! 


'n 


«2 


4 

%, 


▲tnfuti  DnoLostniss 


anoe  for  suah  an  offence  is,  to  go  without  any  for  five 
weeks.  For  this  she  had  no  relish,  and  requested  me 
to  pick  one  from  some  of  the  nuns  on  the  way  up 
stairs.  I  succeeded  in  setting  two  ;  this  Jar.e  said 
was  one  too  many,  and  she  thought  it  dan^rerousfor 
either  of  us  to  keep  it,  lest  a  search  should  be  made. 
Very  soon  the  two  nuns  were  complaining  that  they 
had  lost  their  handkerchiefs,  and  wondering  what 
could  have  become  of  them«  as  they  were  sure  they 
had  been  careful.  Jane  seized  an  oi)portuuity,  and 
slipped  one  into  a  straw  bed,  where  it  remained  un- 
til the  bed  was  emptied  to  be  filled  with  new  straw. 

As  the  winter  was  coming  on,  one  year,  she  com- 
plained  to  me  that  we  were  not  as  well  supplied  with 
warm  night-clothes,  as  two  of  the  nuns  she  named, 
whom  she  said  she ''abominated."  She  soon  after 
found  means  to  get  possession  of  their  fine  warm 
flanTiel  iiight-pfowns,  one  of  which  she  gave  to  me, 
while  the  other  was  put  on  at  bedtime.  She  presum- 
ed the  owners  would  have  a  secret  search  for  them ; 
and  in  the  morning  hid  them  in  the  stove,  after  the 
fire  had  gone  out,  which  was  kindled  a  little  before 
the  hour  of  rising,  and  then  suffered  to  bum  down. 

This  she  did  everj  morrsing,  taking  them  out  at 
night  through  the  winter.  The  poor  nuns  who  own- 
ed the  garments  were  afraid  to  complain  of  their 
l6ss,  lef^t  they  should  have  some  penance  Inid  on 
them,  and  nothing  was  ever  said  about  them.  When 
the  weather  be;: an  to  grow  warm  in  the  spring,  Jane 
returned  the  ni^rht-gowns  to  the  beds  of  the  nuns 
from  whom  she  bad  borrowed  them,  and  they  were 
probably  as  mucli  surprised  to  find  them  again,  as 
they  had  been  bef  re  at  losing  them. 

Jane  once  found  an  opportunity  to  fill  her  apron 
with  a  quantity  of  fine  apples,  called/a9n«u«tf5,  which 
came  in  her  way,  and  hastening  up  t»o  the  sleeping- 
room,  hid  them  under  my  bed.  Then  coming  down, 
she  informed  me,  and  wa  ai^reed  to  apply  for  leave 
to  make  our  elevens,  as  it  isualled.      The  meimiug 


07  VAVUl  Komc 


8S 


of  this  is,  to  repeat  a  eBilain  rouud  6f  prayers,  for 
nine  days  in  succession,  to  some  saint  we  ctioose  to 
address  for  assistance  in  becoming  more  charitable, 
affectionate,  or  something  else.  We  easily  obtained 
permission,  and  hastened  upstairs  to  begin  oar  nine 
days'  feast  on  the  apples ;  when,  much  to  our  sur- 
(rise,  they  had  all  been  taken  away,  and  there  was 
uo  way  to  avoid  the  disagreeable  fate  we  bad 
brought  upon  ourselves.  Jane,  therefore,  began  to 
search  the  beds  of  the  other  nuus :  but  not  miding 
any  trace  of  the  apples,  siie  became  doubly  vexed, 
uud  stuck  pins  in  those  that  belonged  to  her  enemies. 
When  bed -time  came,  they  were  much  scratched 
in  getting  into  bed,  which  made  them  break  silence, 
and  that  subjected  them  to  penances. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Jane  Kay's  tricks  continued— The  broomstick  ghost— Sleep- 
walking—Salted  cider— Chan|;;ing  beds— Objects  of  some 
of  her  tricks- Feigned  Humility — Alarm. 

One  night,  Jane,  who  had  been  sweeping  the  sleep* 
ing-room  for  a  penance,  dressed  up  the  broomstick, 
when  she  had  completed  her  work,  with  a  wliite 
cloth  on  the  end,  so  tied  as  to  resemble  an  old  wo- 
man dressed  in  white,  with  long  arms  sticking  oat. 
This  she  stuck  through  a  broken  pane  of  glass,  and 
plncod  it  so  that  it  appeared  to  bo  looking  in  at  the 
window,  by  the  font  of  holy  water.  There  it  re- 
mained till  the  nuns  came  up  to  bed.  The  first  who 
stopped  at  the  font,  to  dip  her  fitiger  in,  ctitight  a 
glimpse  of  the  singular  object,  and  started  with  ter- 
ror. The  next  was  equally  tcrritied,  as  she  ap- 
proached, and  the  next,  and  thc^  next. 

We  all  believed  in  ghosts ;  and  it  was  not  wonder« 
f  ul  that  such  an  object  should  cans?) alarm,  especially 
as  it  was  but  a  short  time  after  the  death  of  one  of 
the  nuns.  Thus  they  went  on,  each  getting  a 
fright  in  turn,  yet  all  afratd  to  speak.  At  length, 
oue  more  alarmed|  or  with  \em  presence  ol  imiia 


1 


m 


.•■Sf^f^^ 


**• 


M 


AWFUL  DSlOLOStTfiKS 


than  tbe  rest,  exclaimed,  **  Oh,  moo  Bieu !  Je  ne 
me  ooucberais  pasl"  When  tbe  nigbt  watob  call. 
ad  oat,  **  Wbo'8  that?"  sbe  coufessed  sbe  bad  broken 
silence,  but  pointed  at  the  cause ;  and  wbe:i  all  the 
nuns  assembled  at  a  distance  from  the  window,  Jane 
offered  to  advance  boldly,  and  ascertain  tbe  nature 
of  the  apparition,  which  they  thought  a  most  reso- 
lute intention.  We  ail  stood  looking  on,  when  she 
stepped  totbewindow,  drew  in  tbe  broomstick,  and 
showed  us  the  ridiculous  puppet  which  had  alarmed 
so  many  8U[)erstitious  fears. 

Some  of  her  prreatest  feats  sbe  performed  as  a 
sleep* walkr  '  Whether  she  ever  walked  in  her 
sleep  or  nn;  I  am  unable,  with  certainly,  to  say. 
She  '  <  we  r^r,  Men  imposed  upon  the  Superior,  and 
olO  riuBSj  t  /  making  them  think  so,  when  I  knew 
sho  il>d  xr^  f  and  ^et  I  cannot  positively  say  that  she 
id^  *iyQ  did,  I  have  remarked  that  one  of  the  ol«i 
nuns  w&u  always  placed  in  our  sleepiiig-room  at 
night,  to  watch  us.  Sometimes  she  would  be  in- 
attentive,  and  sometimes  fall  into  a  doze.  Jane  Bay 
often  seized  such  times  to  rise  from  her  bed,  aud 
walk  about,  occasionally  seizing  one  of  the  nuns  in 
bed,  in  order  to  frighten  her.  This  she  generally  ef- 
fected ;  and  many  times  we  have  been  awakened  by 
screams  of  terror.  In  our  alarm,  some  of  us  fre- 
quently broke  silence,  and  gave  occasion  to  the  Su- 
perior to  lay  us  under  penances.  Many  time?  how- 
ever, we  escaped  with  a  mere  reprimand,  while  Jane 
usually  received  ezuressions  of  compassion :  *'  Poor 
oreature ;  she  would  not  do  so  \f  she  were  in  perfect 
possession  of  her  reason."  And  JanQ  displayed  ner 
customary  artfulness,  in  keeping  up  the  fal'^e  im- 
pression. As  soon  as  she  perceived  that  the  old  nun 
was  likely  to  observe  her,  she  would  throw  her  arms 
about,  or  appear  unconscious  of  what  she  was  do- 
ing ;  falling  upon  a  bed,  or  standing  stock-still,  un- 
til  exertions  bad  been  made  to  rouse  her  from  her 
supposed  Ltbargy. 


OF  HABU  UOmX. 


85 


We  were  once  allowed  to  drink  cider  at  dinncTi 
which  was  quite  an  extraordinary  favour.  Jane, 
however,  on  account  of  her  negligence  of  all  work, 
wa8  denied  the  privilege,  which  she  much  reseuted. 

The  next  dav,  wheu  dinner  arrived^  we  began  to 
taste  our  new  drink,  but  it  was  so  salt  we  could  not 
swallow  it.  Those  of  us  who  first  discovered  it  were 
as  usual  afraid  to  speak ;  but  we  set  down  our  cups, 
and  looked  around,  till  the  others  made  the  same  dis- 
covery, which  they  all  soon  did,  and  most  of  them 
in  the  same  manner.  Some,  however,  at  length, 
taken  by  surprise,  uttered  some  ludicrous  exdam- 
tiuu,  on  tasting  tho  stilted  cider,  and  then  an  old  nun, 
looking  across,  would  cry  out— 

*'  Ah  !  tu  casses  la  silence."  (Ah ;  you've  broken 
tilence.) 

And  thus  we  soon  got  a  laughing,  beyond  onr 
power  of  supporting  it.  At  recreation  that  day,  the 
first  question  asked  by  many  of  us  was,  **  How  did 
you  like  your  cider?" 

Jane  Bay  never  had  a  fixed  place  to  sleep  In. 
When  the  weather  be^au  to  grow  warm  in  the 
spring,  she  usually  pushed  some  bed  out  of  its  place. 
near  a  window,  and  put  her  own  beside  it;  and 
wheu  the  winter  approached,  she  would  choose  a 
spot  neur  the  stove,  and  occupy  it  with  her  bed,  iu 
spite  of  all  remonstrance.  We  were  all  convinced 
that  it  was  generally   best  to  yield  to  her. 

She  was  often  set  to  work  in  diiferent  ways ;  but, 
whenever  she  was  dis3:\ti>>fied  with  doing  any  thing, 
would  devise  some  trick  that  would  make  the  Su- 
perior or  old  nuns  drive  her  off ;  and  whenever  any 
suspicion  was  ex|  res>ed  of  her  being  in  her  right 
mind,  she  would  say  that  she  did  not  know  what 
she  was  doing ;  and  all  the  difficulty  arose  from  her 
repeating  prayers  too  much,  which  wearied  and  di«- 
tiacted  her  mind. 

I  was  once  directed  to  assist  Jane  Ray  in  shiftinif 
the  beds  ( f  the  nuns.     When  we  came  to  those  of 


AMWn  SISOLOtUBSS 

•oma  of  the  tittert  whom  the  moit  dislikod*  aho  lald, 
now  we  will  pay  them  for  some  of  the  penMicei  we 
haTe  tuffered  on  their  aecount ;  and  taking  some 
ttiietlea,  she  mixed  them  with  the  straw.  At  night, 
the  first  of  them  that  f(ot  into  bed  felt  the  thisttes, 
and  cried  out.  The  night-watch  exclaimed  us  usual, 
^  You  are  breaking  silence  there."  And  then  ano- 
ther screamed  as  she  was  scratched  by  the  thistles, 
and  another.  The  old  nun  then  called  on  all  who 
had  broken  silence  to  rise,  and  ordered  them  to 
•leep  under  their  beds  as  a  penance,  which  they  si- 
lently complied  with.  Jaue  and  I  afterwards  con- 
fessed, when  it  was  all  over,  and  took  some  trifling 
penance  which  the  priest  imposed. 

Those  nuns  who  ifell  most  under  the  displeasure 
of  mad  Jane  Buy,  as  I  have  intimated  before,  were 
those  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  most  ready 
to  inform  of  the  most  trifling  faults  of  others,  and 
especially  those  who  acted  without  any  regard  to 
honour,  by  disclosing  what  they  had  pretended  to 
listen  to  in  confidence.      Several  of  the  worst-tern- 
pered  '*  saints"  she  held  in  abhorrence ;  and  I  have 
heard  her  say,  that  such  and  such  she  abominated. 
Many  a  trick  did  she  play  upon  these,  some  of  which 
ware  painful  to  them  in  their  consequences,  and  a 
good  number  of  them  have  never  been  traced  to  this 
oay.  Of  all  the  nuns,  however,  none  other  was  re- 
garded by  her  with  so  much  detestation  as  St.  Hypo- 
lite  ;  for  she  was  always  believed  to  have  betrayed 
St.  Frances,  and  tu  have  caused  her  murder.      She 
was  looked  upon  by  us  as  the  voluntary  cause  of  her 
death,  and  of  the  crime  which  those  of  us  committed, 
who.  unwillingly,  took  part  in  her  execution.    We, 
on  the  contrary,  beii^g  under  the  worst  of  fears  for 
ourselves,  in  cusu  of  refusing  to  obey  our  masters 
and  mistress,  tliought  ourselves  chargeable  with  less 
{(uilt,  as  unwilling  assiiitants  in  a  scene  which  it  was 
imftosHible  for  us  to  prevent  or  delay.     Jane  has  of- 
ten spoke  with  me  of  the  suspected  informer,  nnd 
always  in  terms  of  the  greatest  bitterneas. 


wjuau.  xon. 


87 


«, 

^e 


no 


The  Soottior  tometimM  «xpreMed  oommiMratioa 
formed  Jmna  Bay,  but  I  never  oould  tell  whether 
■he  really  belieyed  her  insane  or  not.  I  waealways 
inclined  to  think,  that  the  wae  willing  to  pat  up 
with  some  of  her  trioke,  because  they  eenred  to  di« 
Tert  our  niinde  from  the  painful  and  depreaaing  oir* 
oumstanoes  in  which  we  were  placed.  I  knew  the 
Superior's  powers  and  habits  of  deception  also,  and 
that  she  would  deceive  us  as  willingly  as  any  one 
else. 

Sometimes  she  proposed  to  send  Jane  to  St.  Anne'ii 
B  place  near  Quebec,  celebrated  for  the  pilrrimagea 
Qiade  to  it  by  persons  differently  afflictea.  It  is  sap« 
po<<ed  that  some  peculiar  virtue  exists  there,  ^whidi 
will  restore  health  to  the  sick ;  and  I  have  heard 
stories  told  in  corroboration  of  the  common  belief. 
Many  lame  and  blind  pernoiis,  with  others,  visit  St. 
A!W)e*8  every  year,  some  of  whom  may  be  seen  tra- 
yelling  on  foot,  and  be^^ing  their  food.  The  Sa« 
)  erior  would  sometimes  say  that  it  was  a  pity  thai 
a  woman  like  Jane  Roy,  capable  of  being  so  uselul, 
should  be  unable  to  do  her  duties,  in  oonsequenoa 
of  a  malady  which  she  thought  might  be  cured  by 
a  visit  to  St.  Anne's. 

Yet  to  St.  Anne's  Jane  was  never  sent,  and  bet 
wild  and  various  tricks  continued  as  before.  Th« 
ruh  s  of  silence,  which  the  others  were  so  serupn. 
lous  in  ohscrving,  she  set  at  nought  every  hour; 
and  as  tor  other  rules,  she  regarded  them  with  as 
little  respect  when  they  stood  iu  her  way.  Sha 
would  now  and  then  step  out  and  stop  the  oiook 
by  which  our  exercises  were  regulated,  and  some* 
times  in  this  manner  lenfifthened  out  our  recreation 
till  near  twelve.  At  last  the  old  nuns  beean  to 
watch  against  such  a  trick,  and  would  occasionally 
go  out  to  see  if  the  clock  was  going. 

She  once  made  a  request  that  she  might  not  eat 
with  the  other  nuns,  which  was  granted,  as  it  seeni* 
ed  to  proceed  from  a  spirit  of  genuine  humility,  whidh 
made  her  regard  herself  as  unworthy  of  our  society* 


III 


88 


▲WFtrZi  OXiStOBUEES 


It  bdnff  most  eonTenient,  the  was  tent  to  tbe  B\u 

Smor*B  table,  to  take  her  meals  after  h^ ;  and  it 
d  not  first  occur  to  the  Superior  that  Jane,  in  tliis 
manner,  profited  by  the  change,  by  frettiucr  much 
better  food  than  the  rest  of  us.  Thus  there  seemed 
to  be  always  somethitif;  deeper  than  anybody  at 
first  suspected,  at  the  bottom  of  every thinir  she  did. 

She  was  once  directed  to  sweep  a  community- 
room,  under  the  sleepin^-chamber.  This  office  hud 
before  been  assigned  to  the  other  nuns,  as  a  pen- 
anoe ;  but  the  Superior,  considering:  that  Jane  Bay 
did  little  or  nothinf?,  determined  thus  to  furiiish 
her  with  some  employment. 

She  declared  to  us  that  she  would  not  sweep  it 
long,  as  we  might  soon  be  assured.  It  happened 
that  the  stove  by  which  the  communitv-room  was 
waimed  in  the  winter,  had  its  pipe  carried  through 
the  floor  of  our  sleeping  chamber,  and  thence  across 
it  in  a  direction  opposite  that  in  which  the  pipe  of 
our  stove  was  carried.  It  being  then  warm  wea. 
ther,  the  hole  was  left  unstopped.  After  we  had  all 
retired  to  our  beds,  and  whife  engaged  in  our  silent 
vrayen,  we  were  suddenly  alarmed  b^  a  bri^vht 
Dlase  of  fire,  which  burst  from  the  hole  in  the  fioor, 
ftud  threw  sparks  all  around  us.  Wo  thought  the 
building  was  burning,  and  uttered  cries  of  terror, 
regardless  of  the  penances,  the  fear  of  which  gener- 
ally kept  us  silent. 

The  utmost  confusion  prevailed  ;  for  although  we 
had  solemnly  vowed  never  to  flee  from  the  Convent 
even  if  it  was  on  fire,  we  were  extremely  alarmed, 
and  could  not  repress  our  feelinsrs.  We  soon  learnt 
the  cause,  for  the  flames  ceased  in  a  moment  or  two, 
and  it  was  found  that  mad  Jane  Ray,  after  sweep- 
ing a  little  in  the  room  beneath,  had  stuck  a  quanti- 
ty of  wet  powder  on  the  end  of  her  broom,  thrust  it 
up  through  the  hole  in  the  oealing  into  our  apart- 
nent,  and  with  a  lighted  paper  set  it  on  fire. 

The  date  of  this  alarm  I  must  reter  to  a  time  sooo 


after  tint 
she  found 
powder  n 
emergen  oj 
ez^'osed. 

She  one 
Superior  t 
must  see  i 
pose :  she 
make  it  oi 
priest,  an( 
u«.  It  w 
cotnmitte<^ 
CO  iVfiion 
a     s  T  ev< 

Our  bed 
laid  ncrow 
day,  wiiiU 
she  propot 
This  was  ( 
fell  down 
deal  of  coi 
were  not  < 
however,  1 
amining  o 
confess  th( 
yon  like,  I 

The  nex 
T  was  jusi 
almost  wi 
threw  hers 
trick,  and 
for  the    In 

There  w 
whom  we  i 
Jane  Ray  i 
several  of 
the  momii 
ic^ne  as  se 


OF  iriBU  xomc 


M 


after  tbfti  of  the  election  riots;  f or  I  reeolleet  that 
the  found  means  to  iret  posteeeion  of  tome  of  the 
powder  which  was  prepared  at  that  time  for  an 
emerirency  to  which  some  thought  the  Convent  WM 
ezT'osed. 

She  once  asked  for  pen  and  paper,  and  then  the 
Superior  told  her  i  *  she  wrote  to  her  friends  she 
must  see  it.  She  re  lied  that  it  was  for  no  snch  pur- 
pose: she  wanted  to  write  her  confeBsion,  and  thus 
make  it  once  for  all.  Fhe  wrote  it,  hnnded  it  to  the 
priest  and  he  jrave  it  to  r be  Suj  eriop,  who  read  it  to 
us.  It  was  full  of  ofPences  which  she  had  never 
coi  mittt  1,  evidently  written  to  throw  ridioulo  ou 
CO  .iVftsinns,  and  one  of  the  most  ludicrous  roduc- 
ti<    B  T  ever  saw. 

Our  bedsteads  were  made  with  very  narrow  hoards 
laid  ncroRs  them,  on  which  the  beds  wero  laid.  One 
day,  wiiile  we  were  in  the  bed-cbnTiuePs  together, 
she  proposed  that  we  should  mispinc  e  these  boards. 
This  was  done,  so  that  at  night  nearly  a  dozen  nuns 
fell  down  upon  the  flc  ir  in  getting  int>  bed.  A  good 
deal  of  confusion  naturally  ensued,  but  the  authors 
Tfere  not  discovered.  I  was  so  conscionce-strioken, 
however,  that  a  week  afterwards,  wliile  we  were  ez- 
amininpr  our  consciences  together.  I  told  her  I  must 
confess  the  sin  the  next  day.  She  replied,  "Do  as 
yon  hke,  but  you  will  be  sorry  for  it." 

The  next  day,  when  we  came  before  the  Superior, 
T  was  just  poing  to  kneel  and  confess,  when  Jane, 
almost  without  piving  me  time  to  shut  the  door, 
threw  herself  at  the  Superior's  feet  and  confessed  the 
trick,  and  a  penance  was  immediately  laid  upon  me 
for  the    \\\  I  had  concealed. 

There  was  an  old  nun  who  was  a  famous  talker, 
whom  we  used  to  call  La  Mftre  (Mother.)  One  night, 
Jane  Ray  pot  up,  and  secretly  changed  the  caps  of 
severalof  the  nuns;  and  hers  among  the  rest.  In 
the  mominpr  there  was  great  confusion,  and  such  a 
icebe  as  seldom  oocnrrod.    She  was  severely  blamed 


^ 

.^^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.25 


M    12.0 


us 


m^ 


Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corpordtion 


23  WeST  MAIN  STMIT 

WIBSTBR,N.Y.  14SM 

( 71* )  •72-4503 


\ 


•s^ 


\\ 


'^ 


""     ''V     ■■'■■'■■   : 


1 


M 


AWPtfii  sssoLOVonm 


Vj  Im  Mtot,  lit^g  been  inlonned  againit  bf  loma 
of  tbe  Hunt;  snd  at  lart  beoaine  to  mvob  enraged- 
tbatshe  attacked  the  old  woman,  and  even  took  her 
by  th^  throat.  La  M^re  called  on  all  present  to 
come  to  her  asmstance,  and  seTeral  nnns  interfered. 
Jane  seiced  the  opportnnity  afforded  in  the  oonf  a- 
eion,  to  beat  some  of  her  worst  enemies  quite  severe- 
ly, and  afterward  said,  that  she  had  intended  to  kill 
some  of  the  rascally  informers. 

For  a  time  Jane  made  us  laugh  so  much  at  prayers, 
that  the  Superior  forbade  her  going  dowawith  us 
at  morning  prayers ;  and  she  took  the  opportunity 
to  ffleep  in  the  morning.  When  this  was  found  out, 
ehe  was  forbidden  to  get  into  her  bed  again  after 
leaving  it,  and  then  she  would  creep  under  it  and 
take  a  nap  on  the  floor.  This  she  told  us  of  one  day, 
but  threatened  us  if  we  ever  betrayed  her.  At  length 
riie  was  missed  at  breakfast,  as  she  would  sometimes 
oversleep  herself,  and  the  Superior  began  to  be  more 
strict,  and  always  inquired,  in  the  morning,  whether 
Jane  Kay  was  in  her  place. 

When  the  question  was  general  none  of  us  answer- 
ed ;  but  when  it  was  addressed  to  some  nun  near  her 
by  name,  as, 

^  Saint  Eustace,  is  Jane  Bay  in  her  place  P'  then 
we  had  to  reply. 

Of  all  the  Bcenes  that  occurred  during  my  stay  in 
the  Oonvent,  there  was  none  which  excited  the  de- 
light of  Jane  more  than  one  which  took  place  in  the 
chapel  one  day  at  mass,  though  I  never  had  any  par- 
ticmarreason  to  suppose  that  shehad  broughtit about. 

Some  person  unknown  to  me  to  this  day,  had  put 
some  substance  or  other,  of  a  most  nauseous  smell, 
into  the  hat  of  a  little  boy,  who  attended  at  the  altar, 
and  he,  without  observing  the  trick,  put  it  upon  his 
head.  In  the  midst  of  the  ceremonies  he  approached 
Mmie  of  the  nuns,  who  were  almost  soffoM^  with 
ihm  odour ;  and  as  he  occasionally  moved  fvomnlace 
to  place,  eome  of  them  befui  to  beckon  to  bun  to 


OW  MMMXA  UQim. 


n 


gland  further  <^,  and  to  hold  their  noaaa,  with  looke 
of  dugaat.  The  boy  waa  quite  nnconadoQa  of  the 
oaose  of  the  diffionlty,  and  paid  them  no  attention, 
but  the  oonf  usion  aoon  became  so  great  through  the 
distress  of  some,  and  the  iaughiug^f  others,  that  the 
Superior  noticed  the  circumstance,  and  be  jKoned  the 
boy  to  withdraw. 

All  attempts,  however,  to  engage  ua  in  any  work, 
prayer,  or  meditation,  were  found  ineffectual.  When- 
ever the  circumstances  in  the  chapel  came  to  miud, 
we  would  laugh  out.  We  had  got  into  such  a  state, 
that  we  could  not  easily  restrain  ourselves.  The  Soi* 
perior,  yielding  to  necessity,  allowed  us  recreation  for 
the  whole  day. 

The  Superior  used  sometimes  to  send  Jane  to  in- 
struct the  novices  in  their  English  prayers.  She 
would  proceed  to  the  task  with  all  seriousness ;  but 
sometimes  chose  the  most  ridiculous,  as  well  as  irre- 
verent passages  from  the  songs,  and  other  things, 
which  she  had  sometimes  learned,  which  would  set 
us,  who  understood  her,  laughing.  One  of  her 
rhymes,  I  recollect,  began  with— 

<*  The  Lord  of  love — look  from  above, 
Upon  this  turkey  hen  1*' 

Jane  for  a  time  slept  opposite  to  me,  end  often  in 
the  night  would  rise,  unobserved,  and  slip  into  my 
bed,  to  talk  with  me,  which  she  did  in  a  low  whis« 
per,  and  returned  again  with  equal  caution. 

She  would  tell  roe  of  the  tricks  she  had  played,  and 
such  as  she  meditated,  and  sometimes  make  me  laugh 
so  loud,  that  I  had  much  to  do  in  the  morning  with 
begging  pardons  and  doing  penances. 

One  wmter's  day,  she  was  sent  to  light  a  fire ;  but 
after  she  had  done  so,  remarked  privately  to  some  of 
us,  "my  fingers  were  so  cold— you'll  see  if  I  do  it 
again." 

The  next  day  there  was  a  great  ttir  in  the  house, 
beoaute  i%  was  said  that  mad  Jane  Bay  had  been 
seized  with  a  fit  whUe  making  4  fire*  and  she  waa 


!      V  I 


M 


AWWUL  pIBOLOSUBSB 


taken  up  apparently  insensible,  and  oonTejed  to  her 
bed.  She  complained  to  me,  who  visited  her  in  the 
oourae  of  the  day,  that  she  was  likely  to  starve,  as 
food  was  deuied  her ;  aud  I  was  persuaded  to  piu  a 
stockiug  uuder  my  dress,  aud  secretly  put  food  into 
it  from  the  table.  This  I  afterwards  carried  to  her, 
aud  relieved  her  wauts. 

Oue  of  the  thiu^s  which  I  had  blamed  Jaue  most 
for,  was  a  dispositiou  to  quarrel  with  any  nuu  who 
seemed  to  be  wiuuiug  the  favour  of  the  Superior. 
She  would  uever  rest  until  she  had  brought  such  a 
oue  into  some  difficulty. 

We  were  allowed  but  little  soap ;  and  Jane,  when 
she  found  her  supply  uearly  goue,  would  take  the 
first  piece  she  could  tiud.  Oue  day  there  was  a  gen- 
eral search  made  for  a  large  piece  that  was  missed ; 
when,  soon  after  I  had  been  searched,  Jaue  Bay  pass- 
ed me,  aud  slipped  it  into  my  pocket ;  she  soon  after 
was  searched  herself,  and  theu  secretly  came  for  it 


•^Saiu. 


While  I  recall  these  particulars  of  our  Nunnery, 
and  refer  so  often  to  the  conduct  aud  language  of 
oue  of  the  nuns,  I  cannot  speak  of  some  things,  which 
I  believed  or  suspected,  on  account  of  my  want  of 
sufficieut  knowledge,  but  it  is  a  pity  you  have  not 
Jane  Bay  for  a  witness ;  she  knew  many  things  of 
which  I  am  ignorant.  She  must  be  in  possession  of 
facts  that  should  be  kuown.  Her  long  residence  in 
the  Convent,  her  habits  of  roaming  about  it,  and  of 
observing  everything,  must  have  made  her  acquaint- 
ed  with  things  which  would  be  heard  with  interest, 
I  always  felt  as  if  she  knew  everything.  She  would 
often  go  and  listen,  or  look  through  the  cracks  into 
the  Superior's  room,  while  any  of  the  priests  were 
oloseted  with  her,  and  sometimes  would  come  and 
tell  me  what  she  witnessed.  I  felt  myself  bound  to 
oonfest  on  such  occasions,  and  always  did  to. 

Si^  knew,  however,  that  I  only  told  it  to  the  priest, 
or  to  the  Superior,  and  without  mentioning  the  naijue 


61  my  inl 
80  that  s 
«  Don't  1 
would  re 
for  me." 
formed  < 
be  secret 

Jane  I 
into  the  I 
sofa,  and 
expected 
tweeu  th 
Superior 
fearing  s 
vailed,  v 
length,  h 
afforded 

I  was] 
where  I 
of  my  sh 
I  rose  ag 
caused  i 
small  sqi 
raise.  au< 
not  lio'ht 
ticed  by 
closing  1 
could  no 
afterwar 
Bubterra 
could  be: 
the  prie 
among  u 
gates  we 
up  toth 
then  up  1 
theychoi 

I  after 
torect, 


OF  MASXJL  MOmt/ 


98 


of  myiniformant,  which  I  was  at  liberty  to  withhold, 
80  that  she  was  not  found  out.  I  often  said  to  her, 
**  Don't  tell  me,  Jane,  for  I  must  confess  it."  She 
would  reply,  **  It  is  better  for  you  to  confess  it  than 
for  me."  I  thus  became,  even  against  my  will,  in- 
formed of  scenes  supposed  by  the  actors  of  them  to 
be  secret. 

Jane  Bay  once  persuaded  me  to  accotnpany  her 
into  the  Superior's  room,  to  hide  with  her  under  the 
sofa,  and  await  the  appearance  of  a  visitor  whom  she 
expected,  that  we  might  overhear  what  passed  be- 
tween them.  We  had  been  long  concealed,  when  the 
Superior  came  in  alone,  and  sat  for  some  time ;  when, 
fearing  she  might  detect  us  in  the  stillness  that  pre- 
vailed, we  began  to  repent  of  our  temerity.  At 
length,  however,  she  suddenly  withdrew,  and  thus 
afforded  us  a  welcome  opportunity  to  escape. 

I  was  passing  one  day  through  a  part  of  the  cellar, 
where  I  had  not  often  occasion  to  go,  when  the  toe 
of  my  shoe  hit  something.  I  tripped  and  fell  down. 
I  rose  again,  and  holding  my  lamp  to  see  what  had 
caused  my  fall,  I  found  an  iron  ring,  fastened  to  a 
small  square  trap-door.  This  I  had  the  curiosity  to 
raise^.  and  saw  four  or  five  steps  down,  but  there  was 
not  ho'ht  enough  to  see  more,  and  I  feared  to  be  no- 
ticed by  somebody  and  reported  to  the  Superior ;  so, 
closing  the  door  aa:aiu,  I  left  the  spot.  At  first  1 
could  not  imagine  the  use  of  such  a  passage ;  but  it 
afterwards  occurred  to  me  that  it  might  open  to  the 
subterranean  passage  to  the  Seminary ;  for  I  never 
could  before  account  for  the  appearance  of  many  of 
the  priests,  who  often  appeared  and  disappeared 
among  us,  particularly  at  night,  when  I  knew  the 
gates  were  dosed.  They'oould,  as  I  now  saw,  oome 
up  to  the  door  of  the  Superior's  room  at  any  hojor; 
then  up  the  stairs  into  our  sleeping-room,  or  where 
theyehose.  Andoftenthey  were  in  our  beds  befomtis. 

I  afterwards  ascertained  that  my  oon jeotures  were 
correct,  and  that  a  secret  oomrounicattoo  was  kej^l 


94 


JiVtBVti  TftBOlABWBS 


up  in  ibis  maimer  between  these  two  iustitattons,  at 
the  end  towards  N6tre  Dame  street,  at  a  oonsidfer- 
able  depth  under  ground.  I  often  afteywards  met 
priests  in  the  cellar,  when  sent  there  for  ooals  and 
other  articles,  as  they  had  to  pass  up  and  down  tLo 
OommoD  cellar  stairs  on  their  way. 

My  wearisome  daily  prayers  and  labours,  my  paiu 
of  body  and  depression  of  mind,  which  were  so  much 
increased  by  penances  I  had  suffered,  and  those 
which  I  constantly  reared,  and  the  feelings  of  shame, 
remorse,  and  horror,  which  sometimes  arose,  brought 
me  to  a  state  which  I  canuot  describe. 

In  the  first  place,  my  frame  was  enfeebled  by  the 
uneasy  postures  I  was  required  to  keep  for  so  long  a 
time  during  prayers.  This  alone,  I  thought,  was 
sufficient  to  undermine  my  health  and  destroy  my 
life.  An  hour  and  a  half  every  morning  I  had  to  sit 
_i»;'lhe  floor  of  the  community-room,  with  my  feet 
under  me,  my  body  bent  forward,  and  my  head  hang- 
ing on  one  side,  in  a  posture  expressive  of  great  hu> 
mility,  it  is  true,  but  very  fatiguing  to  keep  for  such 
an  unreasonable  length  of  time.  Often  I  found  it 
impossible  to  avoid  falling  asleep  in  this  posture, 
which  I  could  do  without  detection,  by  bending  a 
little  lower  than  usual.  The  signal  to  rise,  or  the 
noise  made  by  the  rising  of  the  other  nuns,  then  woke 
me,  and  I  got  up  with  the  rest  unobserved. 

Before  we  took  the  posture  just  described,  we  had 
to  kneel  for  a  long  time  without  bending  the  body, 
keeping  quite  erect,  with  the  exception  of  the  knees 
onl^,  with  the  hands  together  before  the  breast. 
This  I  found  the  most  distressing  attitude  for  me, 
and  never  assumed  it  without  feeling  a  sharp  pain 
in  my  chest,  which  I  often  thought  would  soon  lead 
me  to  my  giave-'that  if,  to  the  great  common  re- 
oeptacle  for  the  dead  under  the  ohapeU  And  this  up- 
right kneeling  posture  we  were  obliged  to  resume 
ai  soon  as  we  rose  from  the  balf«sitting  posture 
flrit  mentionedi  lo  that  I  usually  Islt  myself  ex- 


hausted 

of  mora 
ifoui 
often  di 
in  silec( 
meditati 
portanci 
nothing 
passed  o 

Jane  1 
myself  v 
for  then 
recti  V 1 1 
my  thou 
another.' 

Sometj 
ten  the  p 
sleeping 
them  pre 
a  pin,  wl 
time. 

My  do 
want  of  < 
have  pro 
had  I  no 
active  la 
was  chie 
some  of 

Theev 
about  fivi 
vent  as  a 
cision,  a 
in  the  w( 
stance  I 
where  re 
any  acoo 

Infora 
ther  nov 
werereqi 


oy  iai?iA  ifoNit. 


U 


hanflted  and  near  to  faintiog  before  the  conclusi.a 
of  moniiDg  seryices. 

i foundthe^editatioDB  extremely  tedious,  and 
often  did  I  sink  into  sleep,  while  we  were  all  seated 
in  silence  on  the  floor.  When  required  to  tell  my 
meditations,  as  it  was  thought  to  be  of  no  great  im- 
portance what  W9  said,  I  sometimes  found  that  I  had 
nothing  to  tell  but  a  dream,  and  told  that,  which 
passed  off  very  well. 

Jane  Bav  appeared  to  be  troubled  still  more  than 
myself  with  wandering  thoughts ;  and  when  blamed 
for  them,  would  reply,  '*  I  begin  very  well ;  but  di- 
rectly I  b  I'^in  to  think  of  some  old  friend  of  mine,and 
my  thoughts  go  a  wandering  from  one  country  to 
another." 

Sometimes  I  confessed  my  falling  asleep  ;  and  of- 
ten the  priests  have  talked  to  me'  about  the  sin  of 
sleeping  in  the  time  of  meditation.  At  last,  one  of 
them  proposed  to  me  that  I  should  prick  myself  with 
a  pin,  which  is  often  done,  and  so  rouse  myself  for  a 
time. 

My  close  confinement  in  the  Oonvent,  and.  the 
want  of  opportunities  to  breathe  the  open  air,  might 
have  proved  more  injurious  to  me  than  they  did, 
had  I  not  been  employed  a  part  of  mytime  in  more 
active  labours  than  those  of  sewing,  &o.,  to  whioh  I 
was  chiefly  confined.  I  took  part  occasionally  in 
some  of  the  heavy  work,  as  washing,  &o. 

The  events  which  I  am  now  to  relate  Occurred 
about  five  months  after  my  admission  into  the  Con. 
vent  as  a  nun ;  but  I  cannot  fix  the  time  with  pre- 
cision, as  I  know  not  of  anything  that  took  plaee 
in  the  world  about  the  same  period.  The  circum- 
stance I  clearly  remember;  but  as  I  have  else-^ 
where  remarked,  we  were  not  accustomed  to  keep 
any  account  of  time. 

Information  was  given  to  us  one  day,  tbat  ano* 
ther  novice  was  to  be  admitted  among  us;  and  we 
wererequired  to  remember  and  mention  Lee  often 


.,».«.»«,.-T^*<S«i. 


96 


AWFUL  DnCXLOSUBSfl 


in  our  prayers,  that  the  might  have  faithfulneiB  in 
the  senrioe  of  her  holy  spoDse.  No  iDfonnation  wne 
given  118  ooDceming  her  heyoDd  this  fact;  not  a 
word  ahout  her  age,  name,  or  nation.  Ou  all  nmi- 
lar  oooasioDS  the  same  course  was  pursued,  and  all 
that  the  nuns  ever  learnt  concerning  one  another 
was  what  they  might  discover  by  being  togetiier, 
and  which  usually  amounted  to  little  or  nothing. 

When  the  day  of  her  admission  arrived,  though  I 
did  not  witness  the  ceremony  in  the  chapel,  it  was 
a  gratification  to  us  all  on  one  account,  because  we 
were  always  released  from  labour,  and  enjoyed  a 
great  recreation  day. 

Our  new  sister,  when  she  was  introduced  to  the 
"  holy''  society  of  us  "  saints,'*  proved  to  be  young, 
of  about  the  middle  size,  and  very  good  looking  for 
a  Oanadiaii ;  for  I  soon  ascertained  that  she  was 
one  of*my  own  countrywomen.  The  Canadian  fe- 
males  are  generally  not  handsome.  I  never'^learnt 
ber  name  nor  any  thin;;  of  her  history.  She  had 
ohosen  St.  Martin  for  her  nun  name.  She  was  ad- 
mitted in  the  morning,  and  apneared  melancholy  all 
day.  This  I  observed  was  always  the  case ;  and 
the  remarks  made  by  others,  led  me  to  believe  that 
they,  and  all  they  had  seen,  had  felt  sad  and  miser- 
able for  a  longer  or  shorter  time.  Even  the  Superi- 
or, as  it  may  be  recollected,  confessed  to  me  that  she 
experienced  the  same  feelings  when  she  was  receiv- 
ed. When  bed-time  arrived,  she  proceeded  to  the 
chamber  with  the  rest  of  us,  and  was  assigned  a  bed 
on  the  side  of  the  room  opposite  my  own,  and  a 
little  bevond.  The  nuns  were  all  soon  in  bed,  the 
usual  silence  ensued,  and  I  was  making  my  cus- 
tomary mental  pravers,  and  composing  myself  to 
sleep,  when  I  heard  the  most  piercing  and  heart- 
rending shrieks  proceed  from  our  new  comrade. 
Svery  nun  seemed  to  rise  aa  if  by  oua  impulse,  for 
liO  one  ioould  bear  sneb  sounds,  espedally  in  such 
total  silence,  without  being  greatly  ezoitad,     A 


general 
mother, 
fear.    I 
silence : 
^ave  vei 
but  call : 
I  heart 
shrieks  o 
ary,  I  ha 
at  the  til 
nuns  aft 
Superior 
manner  c 
gagging  1 
anybody 
sent  to  tfa 
0^6  yo 
ing  my  a 
I  was  acq 
employea 
Among! 
seventeen 
She  had  b 
of,  ezcepi 
Supeilbr  < 
take  the  v 
intention 
to  receive 
might  hav 
sideratkle- 
stronlfly^c 
nity,  and 
trick,  and 
take  the  v 
Inched 
exerted  o 
when  she 
her  and  to 
iBgsiafla 

m 


the 


Olr  ttAftxi  ttoMt^' 


ft? 


peTieral  noise  sacoeeded,  for  many  voices  spoke  to* 
(Other,  uttering  cries  of  surprise,  compassion,  o* 
fear.  It  was  in  Taiu  for  the  night-watch  to  expect 
nleuce :  for  ouce  we  forgot  rules  and  peuances,  and 
gave  vent  to  our  feelings,  and  she  could  do  nothing 
hut  call  for  the  Superior. 

I  heard  a  man's  voice  mingled  with  the  cries  and 
shrieks  of  the  nun.  Father  Quihlier,  of  the  Semin« 
ary,  I  had  felt  confident,  was  in  the  Supisrior's  room 
at  the  time  when  we  retired ;  and  several  of  the 
nuns  afterwards  assured  me  that  it  was  he.  The 
Superior  soon  made  her  appearance,  and  in  a  harsh 
manner  commanded  silence.  I  heard  her  threaten 
gagging  her,  and  then  say,  "  You  are  no  better  than 
anybody  else,  and  if  you  do  not  obey,  you  fhall  be 
sent  to  the  cells." 

C^e  young  girl  was  taken  into  the  Conv^  dur- 
ing mj  abode  there,  under  peculiar  circumstatces. 
I  was  acquainted  with  the  ^  whole  affair,  as  I  was 
employed  to  act  a  part  in  it. 

Among  the  novices  was  a  young  lady,  of  abeut 
seventeen,  the  daughter  of  an  old  rich  Canadian. 
She  had  been  remarkable  for  nothing  that  I  know 
of,  except  the  liveliness  of  her  disposition.  The 
Supeifbr  once  expressed  to  us  a  wish  to  have  her 
take  the  veil,  though  the  girl  herself  had  never  such 
iutention  that  I  know  of.  Why  the  Superior  wished 
to  receive  her  I  could  only  conjecture.  One  reason 
might  have  beep,  that  she  expected  to  receiro  a  con* 
dderalile-sum  from  her  father.  She  was,  li^^  wever, 
strongly  desirous  of  having  the  girl  in  our -commu- 
nity, and  one  teL%iiid— "  Let  us  take  her  in  by  a 
trick,  and  tell  BSetkld  man  she  felt  too  humble  to 
.  take  the  veil  inr^blic." 

In  obedience  to  the  directions  of  the  Superior  we 
exerted  ourselves  to  make  her  contented,  especially 
when  she  was  first  received,  when  we  got  round 
her  and  told  her  we  had  felt  so  foria  time,  but  hav- 
ing sioee  heeome  acquainted  with  the  happiness  of 
174        •  o 


,_.«^,^  M»fKn*mmi?-!^ 


M 


▲WFtTL  BtSCLOSttHKd 


null's  life,  were  perfectly  oonteut,  and  would  never 
be  willing  to  leave  the  Oonvent.  An  exceptiou 
seemed  to  be  made  in  ber  favour,  in  one  respect ;  for 
I  believe  no  criminal  attempt  was  made  upon  her, 
until  she  bad  been  for  some  time  an  inmate  of  the 
pvnnery.  . 

Soon  after  ber  reception,  or  rather  her  forcible  en- 
try into  the  Convent,  her  father  called  to  make  en- 
quiries about  his  daughter.  The  Superior  first  spoke 
with  him  herself,  and  then  called  us  to  repeat  her 
plausible  story,  which  I  did  with  accuracy.  If  I  had 
wished  to  say  anything  else,  I  never  should  have  dared. 

We  told  the  foolish  old  man,  that  his  daughter, 
whom  we  all  affectionately  loved,  had  long  desir- 
ed to  become  a  nun,  but  had  been  too  humble  to 
wish  to  appear  before  spectators,  and  had,  at  her 
own  desire,  been  favoured  with  a  private  admission 
into  the  community. 

The  benefit  conferred  upon  himself  and  his  fami- 
ly,  by  this  act  of  self-cousecration,  I  reminded  him, 
must  be  truly  great  and  valuable ;  as  every  family 
who  furnishes  a  priest  or  a  nun,  is  justly  looked  up- 
on as  receiving  the  peculiar  favour  of  heaven  on 
that  account.  The  old  Canadian,  firmlv  believing 
every  word  I  was  forced  to  tell  him,  took  th%  event 
as  a  great  blessing,  and  expressed  the  greatest  readi- 
ness to  pay  more  than  the  customary  fee  to  the  Con- 
Teot.  After  the  iuterview,  he  withdrew,  promising 
■oon  to  return,  and  pay  a  handsome  sum  of  money 
to  the  Convent,  which  he  performed  with  all  des- 
patch and  the  greatest  cheerfulness.  The  poor  girl 
never  heard  that  her  father  bad  taken  the  trouble 
to  call  ai^  see  her,  much  less  did  she  know  any 
thing  of  the  imposition  passed  upolHier.  She  remain- 
ed in  the  Convent  when  I  left  it. 
^  The  youngest  girl  who  ever  took  the  veil  of  our 
eisterhood,  was  only  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  con- 
sidered very  pious.  Sbo  lived  but  a  short  time.  I 
waa  told  that  she  was  ilUtreated  b^  the  priests,  and 
befieTed  her  death  waa  in  consequence* 


Influendi 
thel) 
BUhc 
Praot 
TheG 

It  was  c 
influence 
religion ; 
charged  i 
make  fa^ 
who  wei 
perior.    ; 
wereiufli 
young  lad 
those,  gre 
Cases  ii 
have  beec 
were  somi 
were  cone 
The  Bit 
square,  oi 
said,  a  st 
manner,  \ 
intended 
When  he 
the  next 
and  gave 
a  Bomau  ( 
to  be  a  cit 
.The  Bis 
Bified  on 
manner  ai 
One  day 
cause  he  h 
showed  e^ 
remarked 
iioaate 


ptiou 

\ ;  for 

her, 

>fthQ 

ieen- 

:6en- 

Bpoke 

either 

I  had 

Sared. 

ghter,   I 

desir- 

ihle  to 

at  her 

lission 

I  f  ami- 
i  him, 

family 
:ed  up- 
ren  on 
lievinj; 
)  event 
;  readi- 
iO  Con- 
>mi8ing 
money 
ill  des- 
aor  girl 
trouble 
w  any 
emain- 

of  onr 

id  con- 

ime.   I 

and 


Of  KABIi  icosnL 


OHAPTEB  XfV. 


»ft 


Infloeneliig  novices— Diffloulty  of  convincing  persons  fW)in 
the  United  States- Tale  of  the  liinhop  in  the  city— Tb« 
Bishop  in  the  convent— The  prisoners  in  the  cells- 
Practice  in  singing— Narratives— Jane  Bay's  hynuui—  ' 
The  Superior's  best  tridc. 

^'%-'-* 

It  was  oonsidered  a  f^^eat  duty  to  exert  oarselveajo  V*  ^'^ 

influeuoe  novioes  in  favour  of  the  Boman  Oathonoj^ 
religion ;  and  different  nuns  were,  at  different  tii|}eSy  * 
charged  to  do  what  they  could,  by  conversatfoik,  to 
make  favourable  impressi^aa  on  the  minds  of  som6|; . '  ri^ 
who  were  particularly  ifidicatc#|p  |»8  by  the  Su-  ^ 
perior.    I  often  heard  it  remarkei|^biit  those  w)ip:^   « 
were  influenced  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  W^"' 
young  ladies  from  the  United  States  ;«ikd'*OB  iijlii%f 
those,  great  exertions  were  mad# 

Gases  in  which  citizens  of  the  States  were  said  to 
have  been  converted  to  the  Boman  Catholic  faith 
were  sometimes  spoken  of ,  and  always  as  if  they 
were  considered  highly  important. 

The  Bishop,  as  we  were  told,  was  in  the  public 
square,  on  the  dav  of  an  execution,  when,  ae  be 
said,  a  stranger  looked  at  him  in  some  peculiar 
manner,  which  made  him  conftdently  believe  God 
intended  to  have  him  converted  by  bis  means. 
When  he  went  home  he  wrote  a  letter  for  him,  and 
the  next  day  he  found  him  ai^ain  in  tlMTsame  place, 
and  gave  him  the  letter,  which  led  to  btabecomiuff 
a  Boman  Catholic.  This  man,  it  was  al^ed,  pfovea 
to  he  a  citizen  of  the  States.  »   ^ 

The  Bishop,  as  I  have  remarked,  wasnoi  vilry  dig* 
nified  on  all  occasions,  and  sometimes  actefi  iii#icba 
manner  as  would  not  have  appeared  well  i#|tablio. 

One  day  I  saw  him  preparing  for  masal  %id  be« 
cause  he  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  o&'ilti  robes, 
showed  evident  signs  of  anger.  One  of^tbo  nuns 
remarked :  **^The  Bishop  is  going  to  peilom  a  paa* 
aionate  maaa."  Soma  of  th%  oihen  ezoiaiinad :  ^  Ja» 


^ 


.am 


100 


Ainm  onofcOfOMi 


%jft<. 


yoQ  not  ashamed  to  apeak  thoa  of  my  lordf*'  And 
ahe  waa  rewarded  witk  a  penanee. 

But  it  might  be  hoped  that  the  Biabop  would  be 
free  from  the  crimes  of  which  I  have  declared  so 
many  priests  to  have  been  guilty.  I  am  far  from 
entertainiog  sach  charitable  opiuioos  of  him ;  and  I 
bad  good  reaaons,  after  a  time. 

I  was  often  required  to  sleep  on  a  sof a,  in  the  room 
of  the  present  Superior,  as  I  may  have  already  men- 
tioned* 

One  night,  not  long  after  I  was  first  introdaced 
there  for  that  purpose,  and  within  the  first  twelve 
months  of  my  wearing  the  veil,  having  retired  m 
usual,  at  about  half-past  nine,  not  lon^  after  we  had 

got  into  bed.  the  alarm-bell  from  without,  which 
aafe  over  the  Superior's  bed,  was  rung.  She  told 
me  to  see  who  was  there ;  and  going  down,  I  heard 
the  signal  giyen,  which  I  have  before  mentioned,  a 
peculurkind  of  hissing  sound  made  through  the 
teeth.  I  answered  with  a  low  **  Hum— hum ;"  and 
then  opened  the  door.  It  was  Bishop  Lartique,  the 
present  Bishop  of  Montreal.  He  said  to  me,  **  Are 
you  a  Korice  or  a  Beceived  P"  meaning  a  Beceived 
nun.    I  answered,  '*  a  Beceived.' 

He  then  requested  me  to  conduct  him  to  the  Supe- 
rior's room,  which  I  did.  He  went  to  the  bed,  drew 
^he  curtains  behind  him,  and  I  lay  down  a^aiu  upon 
the  aofa,  until  morning,  when  the  Superior  called  me, 
at  an  early  hour,  about  daylight,  and  directed  me  to 
show  him  the  door,  to  which  I  conducted  him,  and 
he  took  his  departure. 

I  continued  to  visit  the  eellar  frequently,  to  carry 
up  0(N|1  for  the  fires,  without  anything  move  than  a 
general  imi^ression  that  there  were  two  nuns  some- 
where  imprisoned  in  it.  One  day,  while  there  on  my 
usual  errand,  I  aaw  a  nun  standing  on  the  right  ol 
the  cellar,  in  front  of  one  of  the  cell  domra  I  haid  be- 
fore observed ;  she  waa  apparently  engaged  with 
•Dmething  within.     This  attrnQt^d  w^  gtlentioo. 


The  door 
fastened  y 
end  of  wli 
the  stonei 
which  wf 
the  stouei 
head.  Ab 
with  a  fin 
baring  be 
nun  I  ha<j 
some  pars 
I  hastenei 
suming  tl 
place  agai 
termined  1 
prisoned  i 
my  admis 
window  1 
heard  a  Y< 
BO  small,  1 
body;  bu 
there  a  pr 
ed,  and  ai 
lio  barm, '. 
My  curj 
could  abo 
inquiries  < 
they  wen 
rior,  Bishc 
the  oth«r  i 
just  disco 
that  the  p; 
with,  and 
confined  t 
taken  out 
and  every 
learn,  and 
conjectun 
9omeo|U 


09  UAMU  ICOXZ. 


101 


The  door  ftpp^ared  to  olose  in  a  tmall  reoetf,  and  waa 
fastened  with  a  atout  iron  bolt  on  the  ontaide.  tha 
end  of  which  was  aeoured  by  being  let  into  a  hole  in 
the  stonework  whioh  formed  the  posts.  The  door, 
which  was  of  wood,  was  sunk  a  few  inches  beyond 
the  stonework,  whioh  rose  and  formed  an  arch  over- 
head. Above  Uie  bolt  was  a  small  window,  supplied 
with  a  fine  grating,  which  swung  open,  a  small  bolt 
having  been  removed  from  it,  on  the  outside.  The 
nun  I  had  observed  seemed  to  be  whispering  with 
some  person  within,  through  the  little  window ;  but 
I  hastened  to  get  my  coal,  and  left  the  cellar,  pre- 
suming that  was  the  prison.  When  I  visited  the 
place  again,  being  alone,  I  ventured  to  the  spot,  de* 
termined  to  learn  the  truth,  presuming  that  the  im» 
prisoned  nuns,  of  whom  the  Superior  had  told  me  on 
mv  admission,  were  coufined  there.  I  spoke  at  the 
wmdow  where  I  had  seen  the  nun  standing^  and 
heard  a  voice  reply  in  a  whisper.  The  aperture  waa 
BO  small,  and  the  place  so  dark,  that  I  could  see  no* 
body;  but  I  learnt  that  a  poor  wretch  waa  confined 
there  a  prisoner.  I  feared  that  I  misht  be  discover* 
ed,  and  after  a  few  words,  which  I  thought  could  do 
lio  harm,  I  withdrew. 

My  curiosity  was  now  alive  to'  learn  evervthing  I 
eould  about  so  mysterious  a  subiect.  I  maae  a  ieyL* 
inquiries  of  St.  Xavier,  who  only  informed  me  thaC 
they  were  punished  for  refusing  to  obey  the  Supe* 
rior,  Bishop,  and  Priests.  I  afterwards  found  that 
the  othor  nuna  were  acqaainted  with  the  fact  I  had 
just  discovered.  All  I  could  learn,  however,  waa 
that  the  prisoner  in  the  cell  whom  I  had  just  spoken 
with,  and  another  in  the  cell  just  beyond,  had  been 
oenfined  there  aeveral  years  without  having  been 
taken  oat ;  bat  their  names,  connexions,  offences, 
and  everyuiing  else  relating  to  them,  I  could  never 
learn,  and  am  atill  aa  ignorant  of  aa  ever.  Some 
conjectured  that  they  had  refused^  to  comply  with 
90|He  o|  iherulea  ol  the  Qouy^uti  or  re^uiaitioui  o{ 


III  iiiiifhilif'' 


102 


VtnVL  DZSOMStJBKB 


tbe  Soperior ;  othen,  that  they  were  heiressea  whote 
firoperty  was  desired  for  the  Convenl  and  who 
would  not  content  to  nprn  deeds  of  it  Some  of  the 
nuns  informed  me,  that  the  severest  of  their  suffer- 
ings arose  from  fear  of  supernatural  heings. 

I  often  spoke  with  one  of  them  in  passinfj^  near 
their  oells,  when  on  errands  in  the  cellar,  hut  never 
ventured  to  stop  lon^^,  or  to  press  my  inouiries  very 
far.  Besides,  I  found  her  reserved,  and  little  dis- 
posed  to  converse  freely,  a  thing  I  could  not  wonder 
at  when  I  considered  her  situation,  and  the  charac- 
ter of  persons  around  her.  She  spoke  like  a  woman 
in  feeble  health,  and  of  broken  spirits.  I  occasion- 
ally saw  other  nuns  speaking  to  them,  particularly 
at  meal  Umes^  when  they  were  regularly  furnished 
with  food,  which  was  such  as  we  ourselves  ate. 

Their  cells  were  occasionally  cleaned,  and  then  the 
doors  were  opened.  I  never  looked  into  them,  bat 
was  informed  that  the  ground  was  their  only  floor. 
I  presumed  that  they  were  furnished  with  stranic  to 
lie  upon,  as  I  always  saw  a  quantity  of  old  straw 
scattered  about  that  part  of  the  cellar,  after  the  cells 
had  been  cleaned.  I  once  inquired  of  one  of  them 
whether  they  could  converse  together,  and  she  re- 
plied that  they  could,  through  a  small  opening  be- 
tween their  cells,  which  I  could  not  see. 

I  once  inquired  of  the  one  I  spoke  with  in  passing, 
whether  she  wanted  anything,  and  she  replied,  *'  Tell 
Jane  Kay  I  want  to  see  her  a  moment  if  she  can  slip 
away.'*  When  I  went  up  I  took  an  opportunity  to 
deliver  my  message  to  Jane,  who  concerted  with  me 
a  signal  to  be  used  in  future,  in  case  a  similar  re- 
quest should  be  made  through  me.  This  was  a  sly 
wink  at  her  with  one  eye,  accompanied  with  a  slight 
toss  of  the  head.  She  tnen  sought  an  opportunity  to 
Tint  the  cellar,  and  was  soon  able  to  hold  an  inter* 
view  with  the  poor  prisoners,  without  being  noticed 
by  any  one  but  myself.  I  afterwards  learnt  that 
1^  /aoe  Ba^  was  not  S9  mad  but  «he  ^oold  |eel  |of 


those  nil 
for  their 
sympath: 
part  of  h( 
mto  theii 
for  such  I 
thus  obts 
been  abl< 

I  f reqi 
the  cells 
about  th( 
cellar  am 
them  an( 
brief  rep] 
change  tc 
whom  al( 
ly  well,  fl 
she  must 
tell  whicl 
that  she  i 
to  say  m< 
was  cons 
somebody 
that  the  < 

It  was 
nion  aboi 
serable  ci 
and  I  nev 
faces, 
the  midd 
is  the  f  ol 
out  the  c 
on  Satur 
by  two  f 
were  gifi 
several  ti 
said  in  r 

I  had] 
edolthe 


07  KAMI  KOVZ. 


m 


thoie  miserable  beinffSy  and  oanv  through  measures 
for  their  comfort.  She  would  often  yisit  them  with 
sympathising  words,  and  when  necessary,  oonoeal 
part  of  her  food  while  at  table,  and  secretly  convey  it 
into  their  daDgeons.  Sometimes  we  would  combine 
for  such  an  object;  and  have  repeatedly  aided  her  in 
thus  obtaiDinfjT  a  larger  supply  of  food  than  they  had 
been  able  to  obtain  from  others.  ^ 

I  frequently  thought  c^  the  two  nniij 
the  cells,  and  occasionally  heard  "^ 
about  them,  but  very  little.    Whenii^ 
cellar  and  thought  it  safe,  I  went  up^  Ib^ 

them  and  spoke  a  word  or  two,  andnanlfli 

brief  reply,  without  ascertaining  that  any^^ltliijlidar 
change  took  place  with  either  of  them/'  ^he one  with 
whom  Blone  I  ever  conversed,  spoke  English  perfects- 
ly  well,  and  French  I  thought  as  well,     t  suppoMd ' 
she  must  have  been  well  educated,  for  I  could  nofc 
tell  which  was  her  native  language.      I  remember' 
that  she  frequently  used  these  words  when  I  wished 
to  say  more  to  her,  and  which  alone  showed  that  she 
was  constantly  afraid  of  punishment,  **  Oh,  there's 
somebody  coming— do  go  away  1"    I  have  been  told 
that  the  other  prisoner  also  spoke  English. 

It  was  impossible  for  me  to  form  any  certain  opi-* 
nion  about  the  size  or  appearance  of  those  two  mi* 
serable  creatures,  for  their  cells  were  perfectly  dark, 
and  I  never  caught  the  slightest  glimpse  even  of  their 
faces.  It  is  probable  they  were  women  not  above 
the  middle  size,  and  my  reason  for  this  presumption 
is  the  following :  I  was  sometimes  appointed  to  lay 
out  the  clean  clothes^for  all  the  nuns  in  the  Convent 
ou  Saturday  evening,  and  was  always  directf)d  to  lay 
by  two  suits  for  the  prisoners.  Particular  orders 
were  given  to  select  the  largest  sized  garments  for 
several  tall  nuns ;  but  nothing  of  the  kind  was  ever 
laid  in  relation  to  the  clothes  for  those  in  the  cells. 

I  had  not  been  long  a  veiled  nun,  before  I  request* 
ed  of  the  8ape)rior  peraiis^io^  to  ponf  ess  to  th^  **  Sainf 


b  ■  i'  f 


^"»-   a*«iM(<*!wi)l^!p'' 


104 


kurwif  DZSOLQsnaBs 


Bon  Fastenr,"  (Holv  Qood  Shephetd)  tbai  ia^  fte 
mysterious  and  Damelesa  nun  whom  I  had  beard  of 
while  a  novice.  I  knew  of  several  others  who  had 
confessed  to  her  at  different  times,  and  of  some  who 
had  sent  theic  clothes  to  be  touched  hy  her  when 
they  were  sick ;  and  I  felt  a  desire  to  unburden  my 
heart  of  certain  things,  which  I  was  loath  to  acknow* 
ledge  to  the  Superior,  or  any  of  the  priests. 

The  Superior  made  me  wait  a  little,  until  she 
could  ascertain  whether  the  '*  Saint  Bon  Pasteur" 
was  ready  to  admit  me ;  and,  after  a  time,  returned, 
and  told  me  to  enter  the  old  nuns'  room.  That 
apartment  has  twelve  beds  arranged  like  the  berths 
of  a  ship,  by  threes ;  and  as  each  is  broad  enough  to 
receive  two  persons,  twenty-four  may  be  lodged 
there,  which  was  about  the  number  of  old  nuns  in  the 
Oonvent  during  most  of  my  stay  in  it.  Near  an  op- 
posite comer  of  the  apartment  was  a  large  glass 
case,  with  no  appearance  of  a  door,  or  other  opening, 
in  any  part  of  it ;  and  in  that  case  stood  the  vener- 
able nun,  in  the  dress  of  the  community,  with  her 
thick  veil  spread  over  her  face,  so  as  to  conceal  it 
entirely.  She  was  standing,  for  the  place  did  not 
allow  room  for  sitting,  and  moved  a  little,  which  was 
the  only  sign  of  life,  as  she  did  not  speak.  I  fell 
upon  mv  knees  before  her,  and  began  to  confess 
some  ox  my  imperfections,  which  lay  heavy  upon 
m^  mind,  imploring  her  aid  and  intercession,  that  I 
might  be  delivered  from  them.  She  appeared  to 
listen  to  me  with  patience,  but  still  never  returned  a 
wcord  fax  reply.  I  became  much  affected  as  I  went 
on ;  at  length  began  to  weep  bitterly :  and,  when  I 
wiwdrewy  was  in  tears.  It  seemed  to  me  that  my 
heart  was  remarkably  relieved,  after  this  exercise ; 
and  all  the  requests  I  had  made,  I  found,  as  I  believ- 
ed, strictly  fulfilled.  I  often,  afterwards,  visited  the 
old  nuns'  room  for  the  same  purpose,  and  with  simi- 
lar resulte ;  eo  that  my  belief  in  the  sanctity  of  the 
nameless  nun.  and  my  regaird  toy  her  iut^oessioui 
W«fe  mbounded* 


"Whal 
into  thi 
marked, 
were  to 
which  fl 
rested  u 
her  f regi 

Aprie 
teach  us 
rade  or  t 
consider! 

The  ii 

tions  of 

even  of  t 

to  me,  th; 

eroise  wi 

raise  oui 

depressec 

the  wholi 

cited  tho 

degree  oi 

was  so  p( 

rest.  Soi 

nuns  begi 

''Jane  It 

trifling  e: 

willing  t< 

After  b 

she  wouU 

fane  pare 

dioulous  1 

the  majol 

DOW  whe 

.perfect  cc 

«Ii 

Witl 

''Jane: 

Would  en 

Vooluessy 


OF  ICABUL  ICOKS. 


105 


.» 


'WBat  is  remarkable,  though  Irepeatedly  was  sent 
into  that  room  to  dust  it,  or  to  put  it  in  order,  I  re- 
marked, that  the  gla^s  case  was  vacant  and  no  signs 
were  to  be  found,  either  of  the  nun,  or  of  the  way  by 
which  she  had  left  it !  so  that  a  solemn  conclusion 
rested  upon  m^  mind,  that  she  had  gone  on  one  of 
her  frequent  Yisits  to  heaven. 

A  priest  would  sometimes  come  in  the  daytime  to 
teach  us  to  sing,  and  this  was  done  with  some  pa- 
rade or  stir,  as  if  it  were  considered,  or  meant  to  be 
considered,  as  a  thing  of  importance. 

The  instructions,  however,  were  entirely  repeti- 
tions of  the  words  and  tunes,  nothing  being  taught 
even  of  the  first  principles  of  the  science.  It  appeared 
to  me,  that  although  hymns  alone  were  sung,  the  ex- 
ercise was  chiefly  designed  for  our  amusement,  to 
raise  our  spirits  a  little,  which  were  apt  to  become 
depressed.  Mad  Jane  Bay  certainly  usually  treated 
the  whole  thing  as  a  matter  of  sport,  and  often  ex- 
cited those  of  us  who  understood  English,  to  a  great 
degree  of  mirth.  She  had  a  verv  fine  yoioe,  which 
was  so  powerful  as  generally  to  be  heard  above  the 
rest.  Sometimes  she  would  be  silent  when  the  otber 
nuns  be^an ;  and  the  Superior  would  often  call  out, 
"  Jane  Bay,  you  don't  sing."  She  always  had  some 
trifling  excuse  ready,  and  commonly  appeared  un- 
willing to  join  the  rest. 

Aft^  being  urged  or  commanded  by  the  Superior, 
she  would  then  strike  up  some  English  song,  or  pro- 
fane parody,  which  was  rendered  ten  times  more  ri- 
diculous by  the  ignorance  of  the  lady  Superior  and 
the  majority  of  the  nuns.  I  cannot  help  laughing 
now  when  I  remember  how  she  used  to  stand  with 
.perfect  composure,  and  sins, 

'*  I  wisn  I  was  married  and  nothing  to  rue. 
With  plenty  of  money  and  nothing  to  do.*' 

**  Jane  Baj,  yon  don't  sing  right/'  the  Superior 
would  exclaimi.  "  Oh,"  she  would  reply  with  perfeol 
VOQlness,  that  19  the  English  lop 


•41 


_<««.  t^v^^iim. 


^w 


IM 


£WWVtt  BflNISOfUSM 


1 1'- 


# 


^JSdgneiir  Dien  de  demeiioe^ 
Bdoois  oe  grand  peobeor!" 
«nd,  as  (mofr  by  ber,  a  person  ignorant  of  the  lan- 
guage wonld  natarally  be  imposed  upon.  It  Was  ex- 
tremely difficult  for  me  to  conceal  my  laughter.  I 
have  always  had  greater  exertion  to  make  in  repress- 
ing it  than  most  other  persoiyi ;  and  mad  Jane  Bay 
often- took  advantage  of  this. 

Saturday  evening  usually  brought  with  it  much 
unpleasant  work  for  some  of  us.  We  received  Sacra- 
ment every  Sunday ;  and  in  preparation  for  it,  on 
Satiurday  evening,  we  asked  pardon  of  the  Superior, 
and  of  each  other,  *'  for  the  scandal  we  had  caused 
them  since  we  last  received  the  Sacrament,"  and  then 
asked  the  Superior's  permission  to  receive  it  on  the 
following  day.  She  enquired  of  each  nun,  who  ne- 
cessarily asked  her  permission,  whether  she,  naming 
ber  as  Saint  somebody,  had  concealed  any  sin  that 
should  binder  her  receiving  it;  and  if  the  answer 
was  in  the  negative,  she  granted  her  permission. 

On  Saturday  we  were  catechised  by  a  priest,  being 
assembled  in  a  community-room.  He  sat  on  the 
right  of  the  door,  in  a  chair.  He  often  told  us  stories, 
and  frequently  enlarged  on  the  duty  of  enticing  no- 
vices into  the  nunnery.  '*  Do  you  not  feel  happy,'' 
he  would  say,  '*  now  that  you  are  safely  out  of  the 
world,  and  sure  of  heaven  P  But  remember  how 
many  poor  people  are  yet  in  the  world.  Every  no- 
vice you  iufluence  to  take  the  black  veil,  will  add  to 
your  honour  in  heaven.  Tell  them  how  happy  you 
are." 

The  Superior  played  one  trick  while  I  was  in  the 
Convent,  which  always  passed  for  one  of  the  most 
admirable  she  ever  carried  into  execution.  We  were 
pretty  good  judges  in  a  case  of  this  kind ;  for,  as  may 
be  permBed,  we  were  rendered  familiar  with  the 
aHs  of  deception  under  so  accomplished  a  teaser. 

There  was  an  ornament  on  hand  in  tbrNunikery, 
^  fp  extraordinary  kind|  wliich  waa  piled  •!  te|i 


pounds 
that  it  1 
were  on 
try,  wh( 
as  he  w 
where 
conceive 
"  Comej 
and  sw€ 

We  8 
evident! 
often  h 
exampU 
next  mo 
soon  ca 
greatest 
chasing 
nodesirt 

TheS 
but  poli 
we  then 
assertioi 
would  h 
had  expi 
was  enti 
but  wha 
falsehoo 
and  swo 
pressed 
compelk 


Frsqneno 
d)ni 
TheiH 
used 

SoiCBof 
Nunner 

time* 


W' 


or  lUBUL  Jioax. 


tor 


povndt;  but  il  had  been , exposed  to  Tiewiokmff, 
that  it  became  dama^  and  qaite  nnsaleable.  we 
wweone  day  Tisited  by  an  ^Id  priest  from  the  eonn* 
try,  who  was  evidently  somewhat  intoxicated ;  and 
as  he  withdrew  to  go  to  his  lodgings  in  the  Seminary, 
where  the  country  priests  often  «itay,  the  Superior 
conceived  a  plan  for  disposing  of  the  old  ornament. 
**  Gome,"  said  she,  '*  we  will  send  it  to  the  old  priest, 
and  swear  he  has  bought  it." 

We  all  approved  of  the  ingenious  device,  for  it 
evidently  classed  among  the  pious  frauds  we  had  sa 
often  had  recommended  to  us,  both  by  precept  and 
example ;  and  the  ornament  was  sent  to  him  the 
next  morning,  as  his  property  when  paid  for.  He 
soon  came  into  the  Gonvent,  and  expressed  ^e 
greatest  surprise  that  he  had  been  charged  with  pur- 
chasing such  a  thing,  for  which  he  had  no  need  and 
no  desire. 

The  Superior  heard  his  dedaration  with  patienoe. 
but  politely  insisted  that  it  was  a  fair  bargain ;  and 
we  then  surrounded  the  old  priest,  with  the  strongest 
assertions  that  such  was  the  fact,  and  that  nol^y 
would  have  thought  of  his  purchasing  it  nnless  he 
had  expressly  engaged  to  take  it.  The  poor  old  man 
was  entirely  put  down.  He  was  certain  of  the  truth ; 
hut  what  could  he  do  to  resist  or  disprove  a  direolf 
falsehood  pronounced  by  the  Superior  of  a  Convent, 
and  sworn  to  by  all  her  holy  nuns  P  He  finally  ex^* 
pressed  his  conviction  that  we  were  right ;  and  was 
compelled  to  pay  his  money. 

•""^■"■"^^■^ 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Freqneney  of  the  priests'  visits  to  the  Nunnery— Their  free- 
dom and  oriines—DifBculty  of  learning  their  names— « 
Their  Holy  Retreat— Ohjections  in  our  minds— Means 
used  tooounteract  cohsoienoe— Ingenious  Aigumeats. 

SoxB  of  the  priests  from  the  Seminary  were  in  the 
Nonnery  every  day  and  night,  and  ofton  several  at  a 
\m^     I  have  seen  nearly  all  o|  th^o^ «(  diffrfiil 


:■:>■ 


m0 


16S 


JLWFUL  TftBOLOBOt^ 


tiniMy  thongli  there  are  aboatbne  hundM  fttid^f^ 
in  the  district  of  Montreal.  There  was  a  difference 
in  their  oondact :  though  I  believe  every  one  of  them 
was  guilt  J  of  licentiousness ;  while  not  one  did  I 
ever  see  who  maintained  a  character  any  way  be* 
coming  the  profession  of  a  priest.  Some  were  gross 
and  degraded  in  a  degree  which  few  of  my  readers 
can  ever  have  imagined :  and  I  should  be  unwiliiDg 
to  offend  the  eye,  and  corrupt  the  heart,  of  any  one, 
by  an  account  of  their  words  and  actions.  Few  ima- 
ginations can  coDceive  deeds  so  abominable  as  they 
practised,  and  often  required  of  some  of  the  poor 
women,  under  the  fear  of  severe  punishments,  and 
even  of  death.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  with  the 
strongest  confidence,  that  although  some  of  the  nuus 
became  lost  to  every  sentiment  of  virtue  and  honour, 
especially  one  of  the  Congregational  Nunnery  whom 
I  have  before  mentioned,  Saint  Patrick,  the  greater 
part  of  them  loathed  the  practices  to  which  they  were 
compelled  to  submit,  by  their  Superior  and  priests, 
who  kept  them  under  so  dreadful  a  bondage. 

Some  of  the  priests  whom  I  saw  I  never  knew  by 
name,  and  the  names  of  others  I  did  not  learn  for  a 
time,  and  at  last  learnt  only  by  accident. 

Thev  were  always  called  '^  Mou  PSre,*'  (my  fa* 
ther,)  but  sometimes  when  they  had  purchased  some- 
thing in  the  ornament-room,  they  would  give  their 
real  names,  with  directions  where  it  should  be  sent. 
Many  names  thus  learnt,  and  in  other  ways,  were 
whispered  about  from  nun  to  nun,  and  became  pretty 

generally  known.  Several  of  the  priests  some  of  us 
ad  seen  before  we  entered  the  Convent. 
'Many  things  of  which  I  speak,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  must  necessarily  rest  chiefly  upon  my  owu 
word,  until  further  evidence  can  be  obtained ;  but 
ih^re  are  some  facts  for  which  I  can  appeal  to  the 
knowledge  of  others.  It  is  commonly  known  iu 
Montreal  that  some  of  the  priests  ooca^maUy^  with* 
4faw  ^11^  thoir  customary  em|}lojfmoQti^  itud  af^ 


n<4;tQl 

thai  th 
tion,  ai 
hearts, 
thewor 

This' 
it  isai 
such  a  I 
which  c 
the  wor 
anceof 
the  stre( 
of  his  de 
from  thi 
as  they ; 
by  some 
known  1 
personal 
JBourgec 

The  p 
occasion 
sary,  or 
ment. 

In  the 
dation, 
hospital 
apart  oi 
priests,  \ 
18  necesf 
thepretc 
Many  si 
the  nam 
HolylU 
theSup4 
mostly  c 
and  thai 
lying  up 


0»  MABU  nous. 


10ft 


wtUk  be  teen  for  some  time :  it  being  nnderstof^d 

et  ibey  have  retired  for  religious  stady,  medita- 
I,  and  deyotion,  for  the  improTement  of  tbeii^ 
hearts.    Sometimes  they  are  thus  withdrawn  from 
the  world  for  three  weeks :  but  there  is  no  fixed  period. 

This  was  a  fact  I  knew  before  I  took  the  veil ;  for 
it  is  a  frequent  subject  of  remark,  that  such  and 
such  a  Father  is  on  a  **  holv  retreat,"  This  is  a  term 
which  couTeys  the  idea  of  a  religious  seclusion  from 
the  world,  for  sacred  purposes.  On  the  re-appear- 
ance  of  a  priest  after  such  a  period,  in  the  churcb  or 
the  streets,  it  is  natural  to  feel  a  peculiar  impression 
of  his  devout  character—* an  impression  very  different 
from  that  conveyed  to  the  mind  who  knows  matters 
as  they  really  are.  Suspicions  have  been  indulged 
by  some  in  Canada  on  this  subject,  and  facts  are 
known  by  at  least  a  few.  I  am  able  to  speak  from 
personal  knowledge ;  for  I  have  been  a  nun  of  Sosur 
Bourgeoise. 

The  priests  are  liable,  by  their  dissolute  habits,  to 
occasional  attacks  of  disease,  which  render  it  neces* 
sary,  or  at  least  prudent,  to  submit  to  medical  treat- 
ment. 

In  the  Black  Nutinery  they  find  private  acoommo* 
dation,  for  they  are  free  to  enter  one  of  the  private 
hospitals  whenever  they  please ;  which  is  a  room  set 
apart  on  purpose  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
priests,  and  is  called  a  retreat-room.  But  an  excuse 
IS  necessary  to  blind  the  public,  and  this  they  find  in 
the  pretence  they  make  of  being  in  a  **  Holy  Betreat." 
Many  such  cases  have  I  known ;  and  I  can  mention 
the  names  of  priests  who  have  been  confined  in  this 
Holy  Betreat,  They  are  very  carefully  attended  bf 
the  Superior  and  ola  nuns,  and  their  diet  eonsisw 
mostly  of  vegetable  soups,  &o.,  with  but  little  menli 
and  that  fresh,  I  have  seen  an  instrument  of  surgei^ 
Ijriug  upon  the  table  in  that  holy  room,  whidi  is  usea 
c»idy  Ipr  partioular  purposes, 

^^Hr  fombeau, a Boman  priest,  was  oniHIi ol 


/  ' 


•^mmmm.^mmmmam  nmjmfim^ 


I  ,.'v , 


110 


AVFVIr  D: 


bis  holy  retreats  about  the  time  when  I  left  the  Kan- 
neiy.  There  are  Bometimes  a  number  oonfined  there 
mt  the  same  time.  The  victimt  of  these  priests  £re- 
quentij  share  the  same  fate. 

I  have  often  reflected  how  grievoosly  I  had  been 
deceiyed  in  mv  opinions  of  a  nun's  condition  ! — All 
the  holiness  of  their  lives,  I  now  saw  was  merely 
pretended.  The  appearance  of  sanctity  and  heaven- 
ly-mindedness  which  thejphad  shown  among  us  no« 
▼ices,  I  found  was  only  «  disguise  to  conceal  such 
practices  as  would  not  be  tolerated  in  any  decent  so- 
ciety in  the  world  ;  and  as  for  joy  and  peace  like 
that  of  heaven,  which  I  had  expected  to  find  among 
them,  I  learnt  too  well  that  they  did  not  exist  there. 

The  only  way  in  which  such  tiioughts  were  coun- 
teracted,  was  by  the  constant  instructions  ^iven  us 
by  the  Su^rior  and  priests,  to  regard  every  doubt  as 
a  mortal  sin.  Other  faults  we  might  have,  as  we 
were  told  over  and  over  again,  which  though  worthy 
of  penances,  were  far  less  sinful  than  these.  For  a 
nim  to  doubt  that  she  was  doing  her  duty  in  fulfill- 
ing  her  tows  and  oaths,  was  a  heinous  offence,  and 
we  were  exhorted  always  to  suppress  our  doubts,  to 
confess  them  without  reserve,  and  cheerfully  submit 
to  severe  penances  on  account  of  them,  as  the  only 
means  of  mortifying  our  evil  dispositions,  and  resist- 
ing the  temptations  of  the  deviL  Thus  we  learnt  in 
•  good  degree  t(^  resist  our  minds  and  conscieitoes, 
when  we  felt  the  rising  of  a  question  about  the  duty 
of  doing  anything  required  of  us. 

To  enforce  this  upon  us,  they  employ  various 
means.  Some  of  the  most  striking  stories  told  us  at 
catechism  by  the  priests,  were  designed  for  this  end. 
One  of  these  I  will  repeat.  *'  One  day,"  as  a  priest 
assured  us,  who  was  hearing  us  say  the  catechism 
on  Saturday  afternoon,  '*  as  one  Monsieur  «  «  ♦  «, 
a  well-known  citizen  of  Montreal,  was  walking  near 
tkt  ^thedral,  he  saw  Satan  giving  orders  to  innu- 
nmlilacTil  spirits  who  wiste  asiemhled  aioimd 


wsnxttx 


111 


him.  Beiniir  afraid  of  being  seen,  and  yet  wishiifg 
to  etierve  what  was  done,  Hhe  hid  himself  wltere  he 
ooiild  observe  all  that  passed.  Satan  despatched 
his  devils  to  different  parts  of  the  dty,  with  direc« 
tioDS  to  do  their  best  for  him  ;  and  they  returned 
in  a  short  time,  bringing  in  reports  of  their  success 
in  leading  persons  of  different  classes  to  the  com- 
mission of  various  sins,  which  they  thought  would 
be  agreeable  to  their  master.  Satan,  however,  ez« 
pressed  his  dissatisfaction,  and  ordered  them  out 
again ;  but  Just  then  a  spirit  from  the  Black  Kun- 
nery  came,  who  had  not  been  seen  before,  and  stated 
that  he  had  been  trying  for  seven  years  to  persuade 
one  of  the  nuns  to  doubt,  and  had  just  succeeded. 
Satan  received  the  intelligence  with  the  highest  plea* 
sure ;  and  turning  to  the  spirits  around  nim,  said : 
^  Ton  have  not  half  done  your  work, — ^he  has  ^ne 
much  more  than  all  of  you  put  together.' " 

In  spite,  however,  of  our  instructions  and  warn- 
ings, our  fears  and  penances,  such  doubts  would  ob- 
trude ;  and  I  have  often  indulged  them  for  a  time, 
and  at  length,  yielding  to  the  belief  that  I  was  wrong 
iu  giving  place  to  them,  would  confess  them,  and  un- 
dergo with  cheerfulness  such  new  penances  as  I  was 
loaded  with.  Others  too  would  occasionally  enter- 
tain and  privately  express  such  doubts ;  though  we 
had  all  been  most  solemnly  warned  by  the  cruel  mur- 
der of  Saint  Frances.  Occasionally  some  of  the  nuns 
would  go  further,  and  resist  the  restraints  of  pun- 
ishments imposed  upon  them ;  and  it  was  not  un* 
common  to  hear  screams,  sometimes  of  a  most  pierc- 
ing and  terrific  kind,  from  nuns  suffering  under  dis* 
dpline. 

Some  of  my  readers  may  feel  disposed  to  exclaim 
against  me,  for  believing  things  which  will  steike 
them  as  so  monstrous  and  abominable.  To  such,  I 
Would  say,  without  pretending  to  justify  myself,— 
you  know  little  of  the  position  in  which  I  was  plao 
6d;i&the  first  place,  ignorant  of  any  othcdt  iefi|^ 


I'mi 


It  I 


'$ 


y; 


i 


•IPW^^WWPr .i  - 


u« 


kynvL  jutsox/nBtnLTM 


■,j 


•Qi  doctrfneff,  and  in  the  second,  met  at  every  mo* 
meat  by  tome  iugenions  argument,  and  the  ezamp|e 
of  a  large  oommunity,  who  received  all  the  Inetroo- 
.  tions  of  tiie  priests  as  of  undoubted  truth,  and  prac- 
tised upon  them.  Of  the  variety  and  speciousness 
of  the  arguments  used,  you  cannot  have  any  oor- 
reot  idea*  Thev  were  often  so  ready  with  replies, 
examples,  anecdotes,  and  authorities,  to  enforce  their 
doctrines,  that  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  they  could  never 
have  learnt  it  all  from  books,  but  must  have  been 
taught  by  wicked  spirits.  Indeed,  when  I  reflect  up- 
on their  conversations,  I  am  astonished  at  their  art 
and  address,  and  find  it  difficult  to  account  for  their 
subtlety  and  success  in  influencing  my  mind,  and 
persuading  me  to  anything  they  pleased.  It  seems 
to  me  that  hardly  anybody  would  be  safe  in  their 
hands*  If  you  were  to  go  to  confession  twice,  I  be- 
lieve you  would  feel  very  different  from  what  you 
do  now*  Thej^  have  such  a  way  of  avoiding  one 
thing  and  speaking  of  another,  of  affirming  this,  and 
doubting  and  disputing  that,  of  quoting  authori- 
ties, and  speaking  of  wonders  and  miracles  recently 
performed,  in  confirmation  of  what  they  teach,  as 
xamiliirly  known  to  persons  whom  they  call  by 
name,  and  whom  they  pretend  to  offer  as  witnesses, 
though  they  never  give  you  an  opportunity  to  speak 
with  them,— these,  and  many  other  means,  they  use 
in  such  a  way,  that  they  always  blinded  my  mind, 
t^it  I  should  think,  would  blind  the  minds  of  others. 


CHAPTER  XVI, 

Treatment  oi  young  Infants  in  the  Convent— Talking  in 
Sleep— Amusements— Ceremonies  at  the  public  Inter- 
ment of  deceased  Nuns— Sudden  disappearance  of  the 
Old  Superior— Introduction  of  the  new  one— Supersti- 
tion— Alarm  of  a  nun — Dii&culty  of  Communication 
with  other  Nuns.  f 

It  will  be  recollected,  that  I  was  informed  immedi- 
ately after  receiving  the  veil|  that  infants  were  oo- 


casfom 
day  in 

opport 

such  a 

death  < 

childre 

who  wi 

while  t 

rior  an 

never  I 

The] 

and  cal 

at  a  tim 

priest  1 

good-lo 

Profes8( 

heads  o 

tism.  Vi 

taken, c 

the  pres 

on  the  E 

could  nc 

hand  w< 

other,  ai 

was  hea 

{Ifreatest 

mg  this 

accustoi 

then  tak 

have  me 

I  after 

same  m 

this  see 

stances, 

culiarly 

injrs. 

.These 
witnesse 
oident  th 
174 


6Y  tfARXii  VOKX. 


in 


Ire  00- 


eatioiially  mnrclered  in  the  Oonvent.  t  watoM 
day  in  the  nun's  priyate  sick  room,  when  I  had  an 
opportunity  unsought  for,  of  witnessinff  deeds  of 
such  a  nature.  It  was,  perhaps,  a  montn  after  the 
death  of  St.  Frances.  Two  little  twin  bahes,  the 
children  of  St.  Catherine,  were^  brought  to  a  priesiL 
who  was  in  the  room,  for  baptism.  I  was  present 
while  the  ceremony  was  performed,  with  the  Snpe* 
rior  and  several  of  the  old  nuns,  whose  names  I 
never  knew,  they  being  called  Ma  tante  (Aunt.) 

The  priests  took  turns  in  attendinp^  to  confession 
and  catechism  in  the  Convent,  usually  three  months 
at  a  time,  though  sometimes  longer  periods*  The 
priest  then  on  duty  was  Father  Larkin.  He  is  a 
good-looking  European,  and  has  a  brother  who  is  a 
Professor  in  the  College.  He  first  put  oil  upon  the 
heads  of  the  infants,  as  is  the  custom  before  bap- 
tism. When  he  had  baptised  the  children,  they  were 
taken,  one  after  another,  by  one  of  the  old  nuns,  in 
the  presence  of  us  all.  She  pressed  her  hand  up- 
on the  mouth  and  nose  of  the  first  so  tight  that  it 
could  not  breathe,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  when  the 
hand  was  removed,  it  was  dead.  She  then  took  the 
other,  and  treated  it  in  the  same  way.  No  sound 
was  heard,  and  both  the  children  were  corpses.  The 
{greatest  indifference  was  shown  by  all  present  dur^ 
log  this  operation ;  for  all,  as  I  well  knew,  were  long 
accustomed  to  such  scenes.  The  little  bodies  were 
then  taken  into  the  cellar,  thrown  into  the  pit  I 
have  mentioned,  and  covered  with  a  quantity  of  lime. 

I  afterwards  saw  a  new-bom  infant  treated  in  the 
same  manner,  in  the  same  place  ;  but  the  actors  in 
this  scene  I  choose  not  to  name,  nor  th^  circum- 
stances, as  every  thing  connected  with  it  is  of  a  pe- 
culiarly trying  and  painful  nature  to  my  own  fed* 
ings. 

These  were  the  only  instances  of  infanticide  I 
witnessed  ;  and  it  seemed  to  be  merely  owing  to  ac- 
cident that  I  was  then  present.      So  far  as  I  laiofT 
174  H 


-i 


ihcve  were  bo  pamt  taken  to  preserve  'Meraoy  on 
'  tbii  snbjeot ;  that  is,  I  saw  no  attempt  made  to  keep 
any  inmate  of  the  Oonyeut  in  ignorance  of  the  mur- 
der of  the  children.  On  the  contrary,  othere  were 
told,  as  well  as  myself,  ou  their  first  admission  as 
^veiled  nuns,  that  all  infants  bom  in  the  place  were 
baptised  and  killed,  without  loss  of  time^  and  I  had 
been  called  to  witness  the  murder  of  the  three  just 
mentioned,  only  because  I  happened  ta  be  in  the 
room  at  the  time. 

That  others  were  killed  in  the  same  manner,  dur- 
ing my  stay  in  the  nunnery,  I  am  well  assured. 

How  many  there  were  I  cannot  tell,  and  havinff 
taken  no  account  of  those  I  heard  of,  I  cannot  speak 
with  precision ;  I  believe,  however,  that  I  learnt 
ttiroagh  nnns,  that  at  least  eighteen  or  twenty  in« 
fonts  were  smothered,  and  secretly  buried  in  the  cel- 
lar, while  I  was  a  nun. 

One  of  the  effects  of  the  weariness  of  onr  bodies 
and  minds,  was  our  proneness  to  talk  in  our  sleep. 
It  was  both  ludicrous  and  painful  to  hear  the  nuns 
repeat  their  prayers  in  the  course  of  the  ni|i;ht,  as 
tl^y  |requently  did  in  their  dreams.  Bequired  to 
keep  onr  minds  continually  on  the  stretch,  both  in 
watching  our  conduct,  in  remembering  the  rules  and 
our  prayers,  under  the  fear  of  the  consequences  of 
any  neglect,  when  we  closed  our  eyes  in  sleep,  we 
often  went  over  again  the  Bcenes  of  t}ie  day  ;  and  it 
was  nojuncommon  thin?  for  me  to  hear  a  nun  re- 
peat  one  or  two  of  her  lon^r  exercises  in  the  dead  of 
the  night.  Sometimes  by  the  time  she  had  finished, 
another,  in  a  different  part  of  the  room,  would  hap- 
pen to  take  a  similar  turn,  and  commence  a  similar 
recitation ;  and  I  have  known  cases  in  Which  several 
snch  unconscious  exercises  were  performed,  all  with- 
iir  an  hour  or  two. 

We  had  now  and  then  a  recreation  day,  when  we 
were  relieved  from  our  customary  labour,  and  from 
prayers  except  thoae  for  moniing  and  eteningi 


and  th4 

dock. 

pied  wi 

and  ilrti 

relate  t 

vent. 

terrupt 

priests, 

fSte,  th 

kept  b^ 

oey»i 

in  the 

there  v 

say  mai 

nery. 

very  lai 

sick-roG 

chapel. 

Whei 

as  if  li 

posture^ 

book  in 

ly  admit 

and  pra 

I  behevi 

such  a  CI 

Theli 

the  de\i\ 

being  ii 

she  is  nc 

sion,  oui 

away,  at 

some  of 

the  souh 

them. 

It  wai 
foreade 
often  pel 
for  the( 


,^F^- , 


Of  HABu  uxanL 


^.118 


ron 

:eep 
Bur- 
fere 
1  as 
vrere 
had 
just 
the 

dur- 

• 

ipeak 
earnt 
y  in- 
e  eel- 

bodies 
sleep, 
nuns 
;ht,  as 
red  to 
othin 
Bsand 
ces  of 
ip,  we 
and  it 
n  re- 
eadot 
lislied, 
dhap- 
limilar 
everal 
with- 

len  we 

from 

reningt 


ftiid  the  short  ones  said  at  eveij  strikinnf  of  tha 
olook.  The  frreater  part  of  our  time  was  then  ooeii- 
pied  with  different  games,  particularly  backgaminoii 
and  draughts,  and  in  such  conyersation  as  did  not 
relate  to  our  past  lives,  and  the  outside  of  the  Con- 
vent. Sometimes,  however,  ou reports  would  be  in* 
terru)>ted  on  such  days  by  the  entrance  of  one  of  the 
priests,  who  would  c  me  in  and  propose  that  his 
fdte,  the  birthday  of  his  patron  saint,  ahonld  be 
kept  by  *Hhe  saints."    We  saints! 

Several  nuns  died  at  different  times  while  I  was 
in  the  Couvent;  how  many,  I  cannot  say,  but 
there  was  a  considerable  number.  I  might  rather 
say  mauy  iu  proportion  to  the  number  in  the  nun« 
nery.  The  proportion  of  deaths  I  am  sure  was 
yery  large.  There  were  always  some  in  the  nuns* 
sick-room,  and  several  interments  took  place  in  the 
chapel. 

When  a  Black  Nun  is  dead,  the  corpse  is  dressed 
as  if  livin?,  and  placed  iu  the  chapel  in  a  sitting 
posture,  within  the  railing  round  the  altar,  with  a 
book  in  hand  as  if  reading.  Persons  are  then  free* 
ly  admitted  from  the  street,  and  some  of  them  read 
and  pray  before  it.  No  particular  notoriety  is  giyen, 
I  believe,  to  this  exhibition  out  of  the  Oonventi  but 
such  a  case  usually  excites  some  attention. 

The  living  nutis  are  required  to  say  prayers  for 
the  delivery  of  their  deceased  sister  from  purgatory, 
being  informed,  as  in  all  other  such  cases,  that  if 
she  is  not  there,  and  has  no  need  of  our  interces- 
sion, our  prayers  are  in  no  danger  of  being  thrown 
away,  as  they  will  be  set  down  to  the  account  of 
some  of  our  deceased  friends,  or  at  least  to  that  of 
the  souls  which  have  no  acquaintances  to  pray  for 
them. 

It  was  customary  for  us  occasionally  to  kneel  be* 
fore  a  dead  nun  thus  seated  in  the  chapel,  and  I  haye 
often  performed  that  task.  It  was  always  paiof  uL 
for  the  ghastly  eounteuanoe  being  seen  whenerer  X 


uto 


116 


AWTtTL  BtSOLOStTSIES 


ritised  my  eyes,  and  thefeelitif^  that  the  position  and 
dress  were  entirely  opposed  to  every  idea  of  pro« 
priety  in  such  a  case,  always  made  me  melancholy. 

The  Superior  sometimes  left  the  Oonvent,  and  was 
absent  for  an  hour,  or  several  hours  at  a  time,  but 
we  never  knew  of  it  until  she  had  returned,  and 
were  not  informed  where  she  had  been,  I  one  day 
had  reason  to  presume  that  she  had  recently  paid  a 
visit  to  the  priests'  farm,  though  I  had  not  direct 
evidence  that  such  was  the  fact.  The  priests'  farm 
is  a  fine  tract  of  land  belonging  to  the  Seminary,  a 
little  distance  from  the  city,  near  the  Lachine  road, 
with  a  large  old-fashioned  edifice  upon  it.  I  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  Superior's  room  on  the  day  allud- 
ed to,  when  she  made  some  remark  on  the  plainness 
and  poverty  of  her  furniture.  I  replied  that  she  was 
not  proud,  and  could  not  be  dissatisfied  on  that  ac» 
count:  she  answered,— ** No :  but  if  I  was,  how 
much  superior  is  the  furniture  at  the  priests'  farm ; 
the  poorest  room  there  is  furnished  better  than  the 
best  of  mine." 

I  was  one  day  mending  the  fire  in  the  Superior's 
room,  when  a  priest  was  cofi  versing  with  her  on  the 
scarcity  of  money ;  and  I  heard  him  sav  that  very 
little  money  was  received  by  the  priests  for  prayers, 
but  that  the  principal  part  came  with  penances  and 
absolutions. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  unaccountable 
things  that  happened  in  the  Convent,  was  the  dis- 
lippearance  of  the  old  Superior.  She  had  performed 
her  customary  part  during  the  day,  and  had  acted 
and  appeared  just  as  usual.  She  had  shown  no  symp- 
toms of  ill  health,  met  with  no  particular  difficulty 
in  conducting  business,  and  no  agitation,  anxiety,  or 
gloom  had  been  noticed  in  her  conduct.  We  had  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  during  that  day  she  had  ex- 
pected anvthing  particular  to  occur,  any  more  thau 
the  rest  of  us.  After  the  close  of  our  customary  la- 
tK>ars  and  evening  lectures,  she  dismimed  us  to  retirs 


;  •  I'ijfi 


ingth 
on  oui 
munit 
ingles 
hopL 
seen.  > 
and  ii 
preseu 
vent,  fl 
obedie 
The 
est  nui 
with  s\ 
walkin 
word  V 
the  cau 
Superic 
one  of 
become 
self,  th^ 
by  ordc 
on  her 
howevc 
private 
tunitiei 
usual,  c 
withou 
than  ai 
She  spo 
said, " ; 
old  Sup 
"Hu 
"you'll 
«My 
to  beat 
Itcai 
stitioua 
by  ttua 


OF  HIBIA  XOITK. 


ii7 


and 
>ro- 
)ly. 
was 
but 
and 
day 
lid  a 
irect 
(arm 
ry,a 
road, 
hap- 
llud- 
Qnesa 
9  waa 
it  ao« 
,  how 
farm ; 
in  the 

jrior's 
m  the 
t  very 
ayers, 
98  and 

itable 
le  dis- 
ormed 
acted 
symp- 
ficulty 
ety,  or 
ladno 
adex- 
•e  than 
ary  la- 
retire 


to  bfldi  exactly  in  her  nsaal  manner.  The  next  morn- 
iog  the  bell  rang,  we  sprang  from  our  beds,  hanied 
en  our  clothes^  as  usual,  and  proceeded  to.  the  com- 
munity-room in  double  line,  to  commence  the  morn- 
ing: exercises.  There,  to  our  surprise,  we  found  Bis- 
hop Lartique ;  but  the  Superior  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  The  Bishop  soon  addressed  us,  instead  of  her, 
and  informed  us,  that  a  lady  near  him,  whom  lie 
presented  to  us,  was  now  the  Su^  erior  of  the  Cou- 
Tent,  and  enjoined  upon  us  the  same  respecl^  mi^ 
obedience  which  we  paid  to  her  predecessor. 

The  lady  he  introduced  to  us  was  one  of  our  old- 
est nuns,  Saint  Du***,  a  very  large,  fleshy  woman, 
with  swelled  limbs,  whi<sh  rendered  her  very  slow  in 
waJking,  and  often  gave  her  great  distress.  Not  a 
word  was  dropped  from  which  we  could  conjecture 
the  cause  of  this  chancfe,  nor  of  the  fate  of  the  old 
Superior.  I  took  the  first  opportunity  to  inquire  of 
one  of  the  nuns,  whom  I  dared  to  talk  to,  what  had 
become  of  her  ;  but  I  found  them  as  ignorant  as  my- 
self, though  suspicious  that  she  had  beeu  murdered 
by  order  of  the  Bishop.  Never  did  I  obtain  any  light 
on  her  mysterious  disappearance.  I  am  coufidenti 
however,  that  if  the  Bishop  wished  to  get  rid  of  her 
privately,  and  by  foul  means,  he  had  ample  oppor- 
tunities and  power  at  his  command.  Jane  Bay,  as 
usual,  could  not  allow  such  an  occurrence  to  pass  by 
without  intimating  her  own  suspicions  more  plainly 
than  any  other  of  the  nuns  would  have  dared  to  do. 
She  spoke  out  one  day  in  the  community-room,  and 
said,  **  I'm  going  to  have  a  hunt  in  the  cellar  for  my 
old  Superior.'* 

**  Hush,  Jane  Bay  !**  exclaimed  some  of  the  nans, 
'*  you'll  be  punished." 

*'  My  mother  used  to  tell  me,*'  replied  Jane,  ^  never 
to  be  afraid  of  the  face  of  man." 

It  cannot  be  thought  strange  that  we  were  super- 
stitious. Some  were  more  easily  terrified  than  othere 
by  uuacooantable  sights  and  sounds;  but  all  of  oa 


!       ■'  <• 


!      1 


118 


▲WTUL  DSKIIL08XJBS3 


Miered  in  the  power  and  oocaaional  appearanoe  of 
epiritt,  and  were  ready  to  look  lor  tliem  at  almost 
any  time.  I  have  seen  several  instances  of  alarm 
caused  by  snoh  superstition,  and  have  ezperieoced  it 
myself  more  than  once.  I  was  one  day  sittiug  mend- 
ing aprons,  beside  oue  of  the  old  nuns,  in  the  com* 
munity-room,  while  the  litanies  were  repeating  •  as 
I  was  very  easy  to  laugh,  Saint  Ignace,  or  Agnes, 
came  in,  walked  up  to  her  with  much  agitation,  and 
began  to  whisper  in  her  ear.  She  usually  talked  but 
little,  and  that  made  me  more  curious  to  know  what 
was  the  matter.  I  overheard  her  say  to  the  old  uuii, 
in  much  alarm,  that  in  the  cellar  from  which  she  had 
just  returned,  she  had  heard  the  mostdreadful  groans 
that  ever  came  from  any  human  being.  This  was 
enough  to  give  me  uneashiess.  I  could  not  accouiit 
for  the  appearance  of  an  evil  spirit  in  any  part  of 
the  Convent,  for  I  had  been  assured  that  the  only 
one  ever  known  there  was  that  of  the  nun  who  had 
died  with  an  unoonfessed  sin ;  and  that  others  were 
kept  at  a  distance  by  the  holy  water  that  was  rather 
profusely  used  in  different  parts  of  the  nunnery. 
Still,  I  presumed  that  the  sounds  heard  by  Saint  Ijif. 
nace  must  have  proceeded  from  some  devil,  and  I  felt 
great  dread  at  the  thought  of  visiting  the  cellar 
again.  I  determined  to  seek  further  information  of 
the  terrified  nun,  but  when  I  addressed  her  on  the 
■abject,  at  recreation-time,  the  first  opportunity  I 
oould  find,  she  replied,  that  I  was  always  trying  to 
make  her  break  silence,  and  walked  off  to  another 
group  in  the  room  so  that  Icould  obtain  no  satisfaction. 
It  IS  remarkable  that  in  our  nunnery,  we  were  aU 
most  entirely  cut  off  from  the  means  of  knowing 
anything  even  of  each  other.  There  were  many 
nana  whom  I  know  nothing  of  to  this  day,  after 
havinjr  been  in  the  same  rooms  with  them  everyday 
and  night  for  four  yearsr  There  was  a  nun,  whom 
I  rappoied  to  be  in  the  Oonvent,  and  whom  I  was 
anadoQi  to  learu  something  about  from  the  time  of 


myent 
leamii 
was  in 

She  wa 

Point  a 

ther  sp( 

of  her: 

though! 

taken  t 

with  thi 

scribe  h 

servatio 

I  had 

that  one 

during  t 

the  Sup( 

but  I  wi 

ceruiug 


Disappea 
confi] 
avoid 
lence 
,  —Ah 
Pena 

I  AKun 
while  I ' 
One  was 
am  not  c 
by  this  E 
She  had 
before  I 
being  ta 
disappea 
her  exce 
the  nuuL 
ttnobserv 
Some 


07  XJLBIA  VOmC 


119 


my  entrance  aa  a  noviee;  bat  I  never  was  able  to 
learn  anjthing  oonoeming  her,  not  even  whether  die 
was  in  the  nunnery  or  not,  whether  alive  or  dead* 
She  was  the  daai?hter  of  a  rich  family,  residing  at 
Point  aux  Trembles,  of  whom  I  had  heard  my  mo- 
ther speak  before  I  entered  the  Convent.  The  name 
of  her  famiiy  I  think  was  Lafayette,  and  she  Waa 
thought  to  be  from  Europe.  She  was  known  to  have 
taken  the  Black  Veil ;  but  as  I  was  not  acauainted 
with  the  Saint  she  had  assumed,  and  I  could  not  de« 
Bcribe  her  in  "  the  world,*'  all  my  inquiries  and  6b« 
servations  proved  entirely  in  vain. 

I  had  heard  before  my  entrance  into  the  Oonveni» 
that  one  of  the  nuns  had  made  her  escape  from  it 
during  the  last  war,  and  once  inquired  about  her  of 
the  Superior.  She  admitted  that  such  was  the  f  ai^r 
but  I  was  never  able  to  learn  any  particulars  e^*^ 
ceruiug  her  name,  origin,  or  manner  of  escape. 


CHAPTER  xyn. 

Disappearance  of  nuns~St«  Pierre-— Gags— Hy  tempoiaij. 
confinement  in  a  cell— The  cholera  apasim— How  to 
avoid  it— Occupations  in  the  Convent  during  the  pestt* 
lence— Manufacture  of  wax  candles— The  elietloD  riots 
^Alarm  among  the  nuns— Preparations  for  delSMio»« 
Penances. 

I  AH  unable  to  say  how  many  nuns  disappeared 
while  I  was  in  the  Convent.  There  were  several. 
One  was  a  young  lady  called  St.  Pierre,  I  think,  but 
am  not  certain  of  her  name.  There  were  two  nuns 
by  this  name.  I  had  known  her  as  a  novice  with  me. 
She  had  been  a  novice  about  two  years  and  a  half 
before  I  became  one.  She  was  rather  large  without 
being  tall,  and  had  rather  dark  hair  and  eyes.  She 
disappeared  unaccountably,  and  nothing  was  said  off 
her  except  what  I  heard  in  whispers  from  a  few  &i 
the  nuns,  as  we  found  moments  when  we  could  speak 
unohserred. 
Some  told  me  they  thought  she  must  have  left  the 


<z 


^ 


120 


JLWFUL  ]>ZiCQ[08UBS8 


OonTent;  and  I  might  have  supposed  so,  had  I  not 
some  time  afterwards  found  some  of  her  things  ly« 
ing  ahon^  which  she  would,  in  suoh  a  case,  douht- 
less  hare  taken  with  her.  I  had  never  known  any- 
thing^more  of  her  than  what  I  could  obserre  or  con- 
jecture. I  had  always,  however,  the  idea  that  her 
parents  or  friends  were  wealthy,  for  she  sometimes 
received  clothes  and  other  things  which  were  very 
rich. 

Another  nun  named  St.  Paul,  died  suddenly,  but 
as  in  other  cases,  we  knew  so  little,  or  rather  were  so 
entirely  ignorant  of  the  cause  and  circumstances, 
that  we  could  only  conjecture ;  and  being  forbidden 
to  speak  freely  upon  that  or  any  other  subject, 
thought  little  about  it.  I  have  mentioned  that  a 
nnmber  of  veiled  nuns  thus  mysteriously  disappear- 
ed  during  mv  residence  among  them.  I  cannot  per- 
haps recall  them  all,  but  I  am  confident  there  were 
at  many  as  five,  and  I  think  more.  All  that  we  knew 
in  each  cases  was,  that  one  of  our  number  who  ap. 
pearedas  usual  when  last  observed,  was  nowhere  to 
06  seen,  and  never  seen  again. — Mad  Jane  Bav,  on 
•efveral  such  occasions,  would  indulge  in  her  bold, 
and,  as  we  thought,  dangerous  remarks.  She  had 
Intimated  that  some  of  those,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  in  the  Convent,  were  by  some  means  removed 
to  make  room  for  new  ones ;  and  it  was  generally 
the  fact,  that  the  disappearance  of  one  and  the  intro- 
daction  of  another  into  our  community,  were  neai^ 
at  the  same  time.  I  have  repeatedly  heard  Jane  BnQr 
say,  with  one  of  her  significant  looksy  '*  When  you 
mpvear^  somebody  else  disappears  1'* 

It  is  unpleasant  enough  to  distress  or  torture  one's 
•elf ;  but  there  is  something  worse  in  being  torment- 
ed by  others,  especially  when  they  resort  to  force, 
and  show  a  pleasure  in  compelling  you,  and  leave  vou 
no  hope  to  escape,  or  opportunity  to  resist.  I  had 
seen  the  gags  repeatedly  in  use,  and  sometimes  ap- 
plied with  a  roughness  which  seemed  rather  inha^ 


07  HASZA.  XONX. 


121 


man ;  trat  it  is  one  thiniif  to  see  ttnd  another  thii^ta 
feel.  Thef  were  ready  to  reoommelDd  a  resort  ta* 
compnlsory  measures,  and  ever  ready  to  run  for  the 
gags.  These  were  kept  in  oue  of  the  community- 
rooms,  in  a  drawer  between  two  closets;  and  there 
a  stock  of  about  fifty  of  them  were  always  kep^in 
deposit.  Sometimes  a  number  of  nuns  would  prove 
refractory  at  a  time ;  and  I  have  seen  battles  oom* 
menced  in  which  several  appeared  on  both  sides. 
The  disobedient  were,  however,  soon  overpowered  |- 
and  to  prevent  their  screams  beins  heard  beyond  th« 
walls,  gagging  commenced  immediately.  I  have  seen 
half  a  dozen  lying  gagged  and  bound  at  once. 

I  have  been  subjected  to  the  same  state  of  invo- 
luntary silence  more  than  once ;  for  sometimes  I  be« 
came  excited  to  a  state  of  desperation  by  the  measures 
used  against  me,  and  then  conducted  myself  in  a 
manner  perhaps  not  less  violent  than  some  others. 
My  hands  have  been  tied  behind  me,  and  a  gag  put 
into  my  mouth,  sometimes  with  such  force  and  rude- 
ness as  to  separate  my  lips,  and  cause  the  blood  to 
flow  freely. 

Treatment  of  this  kind  is  apt  to  teach  submission; 
and  many  times  I  have  acquiesced  under  orders  re- 
ceived, or  wishes  expressed,  with  a  fear  of  a  recur- 
rence to  some  severe  measures. 

One  day  I  had  incurred  the  auger  of  the  Superior 
in  a  greater  degree  than  usual,  and  it  was  ordered 
that  I  should  be  taken  to  one  of  the  cells.  I  wat 
taken  by  some  of  the  nuns,  bound  and  gagged,  car- 
ried down  the  stairs  into  the  cellar,  and  laid  upon 
the  floor.  Not  long  afterwards  I  induced  one  of  the 
nuns  to  request  the  Superior  to  come  down  and  see 
me;  and  on  making  some  acknowledgment,  I  was 
released.  I  will,  however,  relate  this  story  rather 
more  in  detail. 

On  that  day  I  had  been  engaged  with  Jane  Bay, 
in  carrying  into  effect  a  plan  of  revenge  upon  ano- 
ther person,  when  I  fell  under  the  viudictive  spirit  ol 


r^-  ^^p**-' 


r---  ir 


▲\7FUL  ZnSOEiOSUBSS 


I  S'-^- 


•oma  of  tlie  old  ahimi,  and  suffered  seirerel j.  Tfai 
Snqpeiior  ordered  me  to  the  celle,  and  a  soena  of  tio* 
lence  oommenoed  which  I  will  not  attempt  to  de- 
■osbe,  nor  the  precise  circumBtancee  which  led  to  it. 
Soffioa  it  to  say,  that  after  I  had  exhausted  all  my 
Btreiigth»  by  resistiD^  as  lon^  as  I  could,  against  sev- 
eral nuns,  I  had  my  hands  drawn  behind  my  back,  a 
leathern  band  passed  first  round  my  thumbs,  then 
round  niy  hands,  and  then  round  my  waist  and  fast- 
ened.  This  was  drawn  so  tight  that  it  cut  through 
the  flesh  of  my  thumbs,  making  wounds,  the  scars 
of  which  still  remain.  A  gag  was  then  forced  into 
my  mouth,  not  indeed  so  violeiitiy  as  it  sometimes 
wa8«  but  roughly  enough  ;  after  which  I  was  takeu 
by  main  force,  and  carried  down  into  the  cellar,  across 
it  almost  to  the  opposite  extremity,  and  brought  to 
the  last  of  the  second  range  of  cells  on  the  left  hand. 
.'I^e>^door  was  opened,  and  I  was  thrown  in  with  vio- 
leaM,  and  left  alone,  the  door  being  immediately 
ddlld*  and  bolted  on  the  outside.  The  bare  ground 
wasoaderme,  cold  and  hard  as  if  it  had  been  beaten 
eTeD*  I  lay  still  in  the  position  in  which  I  had  fallen, 
as  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  me  to  move,  con- 
flned  as  I  was,  and  exhausted  by  my  exertions ;  and 
the  shock  of  my  fall,  and  my  wretched  state  of  des- 
peration and  fear,  disinclined  me  from  any  further 
attempt.  I  was  in  almost  total  darkness,  there  being 
Bpthing  perceptible  except  a  slight  glimmer  of  light 
which  oamein  through  thelittle  window  far  above  me. 
How  long  I  remained  in  that  condition  I  can  only 
oonjecture.  It  seemed  to  me  a  long  time,  and  must 
have  been  two  or  thi^  hours.  I  did  not  move,  ex- 
pecting to  die  there,  and  in  a  state  of  distress  which 
I  eanuot  describe,  from  the  tight  bondage  about  my 
haiidf,  and  the  gag  holding  my  jaws  apart  at  their 
gMCest  extention.  I  am  confident  I  must  have  died 
Mora  morning,  i^  as  I  then  expected,  I  had  been 
le^  tbera  all  night.  By-and-bye,  Jiowever,  tbt^  I  oit 
^8  drawn,  th^  door  opened,  and  jane  Bay  spoke  to 
me  in  a  tone  of  kindness. 


She] 
lar  mil 
thegafl 
would  1 
If  shell 
not  hail 
reseute 
herself 
her  for 
told  he: 
ed  to  SI 
condesc 
before  1 
the  sigl 
the  affij 
ou  the  ] 
duct,  st 
of  all  tl 
my  beh 
was  the 
went  u] 
fore  all 
nessau 

Amoi 
receive! 
left  by 
myself, 
are  moc 
which 
tended 
points] 
au^aiust 
wouudi 

Myt 
tight  di 
and  sea 

Thei 
wound< 

taut  O. 


.    fp 


■sj^_: 


09  lUBU  icoant. 


12* 


SUe  had  taken  an  opportanity  to  dip  into  the  cel^ 
lar  nnnotioedj  on  purpose  to  see  me.  8ho  nnbound 
the  ffajir,  took  it  out  of  my  moutb,  and  told  meiahe 
would  do  any  thing  to  get  me  out  of  the  dtti||i|pii» 
lif  she  had  had  the  bringiug  of  me  dovRi  she  iBsld 
not  have  thrust  me  in  so  brutally,  and  she  wouM  Ibe 
reseated  on  those  who  had.  She  offered  to  tkrow 
herself  upon  her  knees  before  the  Superior,  and  %eg 
her  forgiveness.  To  this  I  would  not  consent ;  but 
told  her  to  ask  the  Superior  to  come  to  me,  as  I  wish- 
ed  to  speak  to  her.  This  I  had  no  idea  she  would 
condescend  to  do ;  but  Jane  had  not  been  goue  long 
before  the  Superior  came,  and  asked  if  I  repented  in 
the  sight  of  God  for  what  I  had  done.  I  replied  in 
the  affirmative ;  and  after  a  lecture  of  some  length 
on  the  pain  I  had  given  the  Virgin  Mary  bymy  ooii- 
duct,  she  asked  whether  I  was  willing  to  ask  naftlon 
of  all  the  nuns  for  the  scandal  I  had  caused  tni 
my  behaviour.  To  this  I  made  no  objection ; 
was  then  released  from  my  prison  ,and  my  1 
went  up  to  the  oommunity«roi>m,  and  kneelkig  Ife* 
fore  all  the  sisters  in  sucoessioUi^  bogged  theflorgit^ 
uess  and  prayers  of  each. 

Among  the  malrks  which  I  still  bear  of  the  woundi 
received  from  penances  and  violence,  are  the  soars 
left  by  the  belt  with  which  I  repeatedly  tortured 
myself,  for  the  mortification  of  my  spirit.  These 
are  most  distiuct  on  my  side :  for  although  the  band* 
which  was  four  or  five  inches  in  breadth,  and  et» 
tended  round  the  waist,  was  stuck  full  of  sharp  iron 
points  in  all  parts,  it  was  sometimes  crowded  m6st 
aii^aiust  my  side,  by  resting  in  my  chair,  and  then  tb<r 
wounds  were  usually  deeper  there  than  any  where  else. 

My  thumbs  were  several  times  cut  severely  by  the 
tight  drawing  of  the  baud  used  to  confine  my  affl|^ 
and  scars  are  still  visible  upon  them.  '^l 

The  roQgb  gagging  which  I  several  times  endured 
wounded  my  upa  %ry  much ;  for  it  was  oommoQi  iit 
taut  o^cratlua,  to. thrust  the  gag  hard  a^aiust  the 


^ 


I 


.1 


124 


AWFUL  DCWLOBUBM 


teeth,  and  catoh  onr  or  both  the  lips,  wbio&  were 
tometimes  cruelly  cut.  The  object  was  to  stop  the 
screams  made  by  the  ofiFender,  as  soon  as  possible; 
and  .some  of  the  old  nuns  delighted  in  tormenting  us. 
A  gig  was  once  forced  into  mj  mouth,  which  had  a 
large  splinter  upon  it ;  and  this  cut  through  my  un- 
der lip,  in  front,  leayiug  to  this  day  a  scar  about  half 
an  inch  long.  The  same  lip  was  several  times  wound- 
ed as  well  as  the  other;  but  one  day  worse  than 
ever,  when  a  narrow  piece  was  cut  off  from  the  left 
side  of  it,  by  being  pinched  between  the  gag  and  the 
under  fore-teeth ;  and  this  has  left  an  inequality  in 
it  which  is  still  very  observable. 

One  of  the  most  shocking  stories  I  heard,  of  events 
that  occurred  in  the  nunnery  before  my  acquaintance 
with  it,  was  the  following,  which  was  told  me  by 
Jane  Bay.  What  is  uncommon,  I  can  fix  the  date 
when  I  heard  it.  It  was  on  New  Tear*s  Bay,  1834. 
The  ceremonies,  customary  in  the  early  part  of  that 
day,  had  been  performed ;  after  mass,  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  Superior  had  shaken  hands  with  all  the  nuns, 
and  given  us  her  blessing,  for  she  was  said  to  have 
received  power  from  heaven  to  do  so  once  a  year,  and 
Uien  on  the  first  day  of  the  year.  Besides  this,  cakes, 
raisins,  ^6.,  are  distributed  to  the  nuns  on  that  day. 

While  in  the  community-room,  I  had  taken  a  seat 
just  within  the  cupboard-door,  where  I  often  found 
a  partial  shelter  from  observation  with  Jane,  when  a 
oonTcrsation  incidentally  began  between  us.  Our 
practice  often  was,  to  take  places  there  beside  one  of 
tiie  old  nuns,  awaiting  the  time  when  she  would  go 
away  for  a  little  while,  and  leave  us  partially  screen- 
ed from  the  observation  of  others.  On  that  occa- 
sioioi,  Jane  and  I  were  left  for  a  time  alone ;  when, 
aflpi-some  discourse  on  suicide,  she  remarked  that 
fIRI  nuns  once  killed  themselves  in  the  Convent. 
This  happened,  shesaid,  not  long  after  her  reception, 
and  I  knew,  therefore,  that  it  was  several  years  be- 
fore I  had  become  a  novice.     Three  young  ladiesi 


OF  xahia  xokx. 


126 


iheinlonned  mo,  took  the  Toil  tojrether,  or  very  near 
tbe  tame  time,  I  am  not  certain  which,  I  know  they 
have  four  rohes  in  the  Convent,  to  be  worn  dorinnf 
the  ceremony  of  taking  the  veil :  but  I  never  have 
seen  more  than  one  of  them  used  at  a  time. 

Two  of  the  new  nuns  were  sisters,  and  the  other 
their  cousin.  They  had  been  received  but  a  few 
days,  when  iuformatiou  was  ^ven  one  morning,  that 
they  had  been  fouud  dead  in  their  beds,  amid  a  pro- 
fusion of  blood.  Jane  Bay  said  she  saw  their  corpses, 
and  that  they  appeared  to  have  killed  themselves  by 
opening  veins  in  their  arms  with  a  knife  theyhad 
obtain^,  and  all  had  bled  to  death  together,  what 
was  extraordinary,  Jane  Bay  added,  that  she  had 
heard  no  noise,  and  she  believed  nobody  had  bus- 

gected  that  anything  was  wrong  during  the  night, 
t.  Hypolite,  however,  had  stated,  that  she  had  found 
them  in  the  morning,  after  the  other  nuns  had  gone 
to  prayers,  lying  lifeless  in  their  beds. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  their  death  was  not  made 
public;  but  their  bodies,  instead  of  being  exhibited 
in  full  dress,  in  the  chapel,  and  afterwards  interred 
with  solemnity  beneath  it,  were  taken  unceremoni* 
ously  into  the  cellar,  and  thrown  into  the  hole  I  have 
80  often  mentioned. 

There  were  a  few  instances,  and  only  a  few,  in 
which  we  knew  anything  that  was  happening  in  the 
world ;  and  even  then  our  knowledge  did  not  extend 
out  of  the  city.  I  can  recall  but  tnree  occasions  of 
tliis  kind.  Two  of  them  were  when  the  cholera  pre* 
vailed  in  Montreal ;  and  the  other  was  the  election 
riots.  The  appearance  of  the  cholera,  in  both  sea* 
sons  of  its  ravages,  gave  us  abundance  of  occupation* 
Indeed,  we  were  more  borne  down  by  hard  laboiif  a|^ 
those  times,  than  ever  before  or  afterwards  diMitttf 
my  stay.  The  Pope  had  given  early  notice  thafWi 
burmug  of  wax  candles  would  afford  protection  froti 
the  disease,  because,  so  long  as  atvy  person  continued 
t9  biixnonfi^  the  Virgin  Mary  would  interoedefor  hinu 


126 


aVFITL  DISOtiO  tfB88 


No  sooner,  flieref ore,  had  the  alarming  disease  made 
its  appearande  in  Montreal,  than  a  long  wax  candle 
was  lif^hted  in  the  Convent,  for  each  of  the  inmates, 
so  that  all  parts  of  it  in  use  were  artificially  illu- 
ininated  day  and  night.  Thus  a  great  many  candles 
were  constantly  burninpf,  which  were  to  be  replaced 
from  those  manufactured  by  the  nuns.  But  this  was 
a  trifle.  The  Pope's  message  haviufi^  been  promul- 
gated in  the  Grey  Nunnery,  and  to  Catholics  at  lar^e 
through  the  pulpit,  an  extraordinary  demand  was 
created  for  wax  candles,  to  supply  which  we  were 
principally  depended  upon.  All  who  could  possibly 
DC  employed  in  making  them  were,  therefore,  set  to 
work,  and  I,  among  the  rest,  assisted  in  different  de- 
partments, and  witnessed  all. 

Numbers  of  the  nuns  had  long  been  familiar  with 
the  business ;  for  a  very  considerable  amount  of  wax 
had  been  annually  manufactured  in  the  Coiyent; 
bat  now  the  works  were  much  extended,  and  other 
occupations  in  a  great  dei^ree  laid  aside.  Large 
quantities  of  wax  were  received  in  the  building, 
which  was  said  to  have  been  imported  from  England ; 
kettles  were  placed  in  some  of  the  working-rooms, 
in  which  it  was  clarified  by  heat  over  coal  fires,  and, 
when  prepared,  the  process  of  dipfing  commenced. 
tThe  wicks,  which  were  quite  long,  were  placed,  hang- 
ing upon  a  reel,  taken  up  and  dipped  in  succession, 
until  after  many  slow  revolutions  of  the  reel,  the 
candles  were  of  the  proper  size.  They  were  then 
taken  to  a  part  of  the  room  where  tubles  were  pre- 
pared for  rolling  them  smooth.  This  is  done  by  pass- 
ing a  roller  over  them,  uutil  they  became  even  and 
polished ;  after  which  they  are  laid  by  for  sale. 
.These  processes  caused  a  constant  bustle  in  several 
of  the  rooms ;  and  the  melancholy  reports  from  with- 
^1^,  of  the  ravages  of  the  cholera,  with  the  uucer- 
iaiutjr  of  what  might  be  the  result  with  us,  notwith- 
standing the  promised  intercesnon  of  the  Yirinn,  and 
|be  biiluaot  ugbts  ooiittttitij  bnrsiog  in  mxSn  nom* 


berssi 
nessve 
myself 
about  1 
oandlei 
in  my  i 
most  t 
own  wj 

Itwi 
acquaii 
come  i 
Oonvei] 
them,  e 
artidea 
countei 
judge  i 
the  ruh 
I  tberei 
thousai 
nity  to 
seearoi 
sold. 

We  I 
with  wf 
these  in 
minatio 
running 
tities,  8< 
more  la 

We  m 
of  the  \ 
from  t) 
not  one 
during  4 
fatal  in 

When 
city  wai 
reports 
oorselvc 


Olr  JfAHU  ICOlfX. 


127 


ben  aroond  as,  impressed  the  ecenes  X  itB<  -d  to*  wit- 
ness very  deeply  on  my  mind.  I  bad  tery  little  doub^v, 
myself,  of  tbe  strict  truth  of  the  story  wejbftd  beard 
about  the  security  conferred  upon  those  who  burnt 
candles,  and  yet  I  sometimes  had  serious  fears  arise 
in  my  mind.  These  thoughts,  however,  I  did  mj  at* . 
most  to  regard  as  great  sins,  and  eyidenoes  of  my 
own  want  of  faith. 

It  was  during;  that  period  that  I  formed  ft  partial 
aoquaintance  with  several  Grey  Nuus,  who  used  to 
come  frequently  for  supplies  of  candles  for  their 
Convent.  I  bad  no  opportunity  to  converse  with 
them,  except  so  far  as  the  purchase  and  sale  of  tbe 
ortioles  they  required.  I  became  familiar  with  their 
countenances  and  appearances,  but  was  unable  to 
judge  of  their  characters  or  feelinfrs.  Concerning 
the  rules  and  habits  prevailing  in  the  Grey  Nunnery,* 
I  therefore  remained  as  ignorant  as  if  I  bad  been  a 
thousand  miles  off ;  and  they  bad  no  better  opporta- 
uity  to  learn  anything:  of  us,  bevond  what  they  could 
see  around  them  in  the  room  where  the  candles  were 
sold. 

We  supplied  the  Con?refirational  Nunnery  also 
with  wax  candles,  as  I  before  remarked ;  and  in  both 
these  institutions,  it  was  understood,  a  constant  illu- 
mination was  kept  up.  Citizens  were  also  frequently 
running  in  to  buy  candles  in  great  and  small  quan- 
tities, so  that  the  business  of  store-keeping  was  far 
more  laborious  than  common. 

We  were  confirmed  in  our  fnith  in  the  intercession 
of  tbe  Virgin,  when  we  found  that  we  remained  safe 
from  the  cholera ;  and  it  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that 
not  one  case  of  that  disease  existed  in  the  Nunnery, 
during:  either  of  the  seasons  in  which  it  proved  so  -. 
fatal  iu  tbe  city. 

When  the  election  riots  prevailed  at  Montreal,  tbe 
city  was  thrown  into  general  alarm ;  we  heard  some 
reports  from  dav  to  day,  which  made  us  anxious  for 
ourselves,   Notmng,  however^  gavo  me  aay  serioni 


128 


▲WUL  X>X80LO81T1lRII 


thoughts,  until  I  saw  aiioommon  moTementf  in  some 
parts  of  the  Nunnery,  aud  ascertained,  to  mj  own 
satisfaction,  that  there  was  a  larfife  quantity  ox  ^n- 
powder  stored  in  some  secret  place  within  the  walls, 
and  that  some  of  it  was  removed,  or  prepared  for 
use,  under  the  direction  of  the  Superior. 

Penances*— IhAve  mentioned  seyeral  penances  in 
different  parts  of  this  narration,  which  we  sometimes 
had  to  perform.  There  is  a  ereat  variety  of  them ; 
and,  while  some,  though  trifling  in  appearance,  he- 
came  very  painful,  by  long  endurance  or  frequent  re- 
petition, others  are  severe  in  their  nature,  and  never 
would  he  submitted  to,  unless,  through  fear  of  some- 
thing worse,  or  a  real  belief  in  their  efficacy  to  re- 
move guilt.  I  will  mention  here  such  as  I  recollect, 
which  can  be  named  without  offending  a  virtuous 
ear;  for  some  there  were,  which,  although  I  have 
been  compelled  to  submit  to,  either  by  a  misled  con- 
science, or  the  fear  of  severe  punishment,  now  that 
I  am  better  able  to  judge  of  my  duties,  and  at  liberty 
to  net,  I  would  not  mention  or  describe. 

Kissing  the  floor  is  a  very  common  penance; 
kneeling  and  kissing  the  feet  of  the  other  nuns  is 
another;  as  are  kneeling  on  hard  peas,  and  walking 
with  them  in  the  shoes.  We  had  repeatedly  to  walk 
on  our  knees  through  the  subterranean  passage, 
leading  to  the  Congregational  Nunnery ;  and  some- 
times to  eat  our  meals  with  a  rope  round  our  necks. 
Sometimes  we  were  fed  only  with  such  things  as  we 
most  disliked.  Garlic  was  given  to  me  on  this  ac- 
count, because  I  had  a  strong  antipathy  against  it. 

Eels  were  repeatedly  given  some  of  us,  because  we 
felt  an  unconquerable  repugnance  to  them,  on  ac- 
count of  reports  we  heard  of  their  feeding  on  dead 
carcases  in  the  river  St.  Lawrence.  It  was  no  un- 
common thing  for  us  to  be  required  to  drink  the 
water  in  which  the  Superior  had  washed  her  feet. 
Sometimes  we  were  required  to  brand  ourselves  with 
a  hot  iron,  i|o  as  to  leave  scars ;  at  other  times,  to 


wMp( 

apriv 

with  1 

of  the 

One 

time  m 

Saviov 

Roadi 

consist 

tion  ol 

Thisw 

and  fa 

each  til 

cumsta 

place  o 

to  sleei 

us  but- 

of  wind 

the  Sue 

Weh 

full  of 

the  upp 

they  pe 

Some 

seemed 

were  ii 

showed 

often  re 

by  exclj 

Nevei 

for  a  lot 

to  be  ap 

was  put 

Frances, 

were  fo 

sizes.    1 

is  a  dra^ 

munity* 

one  of  t 

174 


•: 


0?  KAiitA  ttome. 


120 


wTiip  our  naked  flesh  with  seTeral  small  rodi,  befura 
a  prirate  altar,  until  we  drew  blood.  I  oan  assert, 
with  the  perfect  knowledge  of  the  fact,  that  many 
of  the  nuns  bear  the  scars  of  these  wounds. 

One  of  the  penances  was  to  stand  for  a  length  of 
time  with  our  arms  extended,  in  imitation  of  the 
Saviour  on  the  Cross.  The  Chemin  de  la  craix,  or 
Boad  to  the  Cross,  is,  in  fact,  a  penance,  though  it 
consists  of  H  variety  of  prostrations,  with  the  repeti« 
tion  of  manv  prayers,  occupying  two  or  three  hours. 
This  we  had  to  perform  frequently  going  in  chapeL 
and  falling  before  each  chapelle  in  succession,  at 
each  time  commemorating  some  particular  act  or  cir* 
cumstance  reported  of  the  Saviour's  progress  to  the 
place  of  his  crucifixion.  Sometimes  we  were  obliged 
to  sleep  on  the  floor  in  the  winter,  with  nothing  over 
us  but  a  single  sheet ;  and  sometimes  to  chew  apiece 
of  window  glass  to  a  flne  powder,  in  the  presence  of 
the  Superior. 

We  had  sometimes  to  wear  a  leathern  belt  stuck 
full  of  sharp  metallic  points,  round  our  waists  and 
the  upper  part  of  our  arms,  bound  on  so  tight  that 
they  penetrated  the  flesh,  and  drew  blood. 

Some  of  the  penances  were  so  severe,  that  they 
seemed  too  much  to  be  endured  :  and  when  they 
were  imposed,  the  nuns  who  were  to  suffer  them 
showed  the  most  violent  repugnance.  They  would 
often  resist,  and  still  of tener  express  their  opposition 
by  exclamations  and  screams.  * 

Never,  however,  was  any  noise  heard  froi^  them 
for  a  long  time,  for  there  was  a  remedy  always  ready 
to  be  applied  in  cases  of  the  kind.  The  gag  which 
was  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  unfortunate  Saint 
Frances,  had  been  brought  from  a  place  where  there 
were  forty  or  fifty  others  of  different  shapes  and 
sizes.  These  I  have  seen  in  their  depository,  which 
is  a  drawer  between  two  closets,  in  one  of  the  com* 
munitv-rooms.  Whenever  any  loud  noise  was  madei 
one  of  these  instruments  was  demanded|  and  gag- 
174  I 


130 


AWTtTL  DXSOLOStntCS 


I 


ging  oommenced  at  ouce.  I  have  known  inan7  in- 
stances, and  sometimes  five  or  six  nuns  gagged  at 
once.  Sometimes  they  would  become  so  much  ex- 
cited before  they  could  be  bound  and  gagged,  that 
considerable  force  was  necessary  to  be  exerted ;  and 
I  have  seen  the  blood  flowing  from^  mouths  into 
which  the  gag  had  been  thrust  with  violence. 

Indeed  I  ought  to  know  something  of  this  depart- 
ment of  nunnery  discipline ;  I  have  had  it  tried  upon 
myself,  and  can  bear  witness  that  it  is  not  only  most 
humiliating  and  oppressive,  but  of  ten  extremely  pain- 
ful. The  mouth  is  kept  forced  open,  and  the  strain- 
ing of  the  jaws  at  their  utmost  stretch,  for  a  consi- 
derable time,  is  very  distressing. 

One  of  the  worst  punishments  which  I  ever  saw 
inflicted,  was  that  with  the  cap  ;  and  yet  some  of  the 
old  nuns  were  permitted  to  inflict  it  at  their  pleasure. 
I  have  repeatedly  known  them  to  go  for  a  cap,  when 
one  of  our  number  had  transgressed  a  rule,  some- 
times though  it  were  a  very  unimportant  one.  These 
caps  were  kept  in  a  cupboard  in  the  old  nuns'  room, 
whence  they  were  brought  when  wanted. 

They  were  small,  made  of  a  reddish  looking  lea- 
ther, fitted  closely  to  the  head,  and  fastened  under 
the  chin  with  a  kind  of  buckle.  It  was  the  common 
practice  to  tie  the  nun's  hands  behind,  and  gag  her 
before  the  cap  was  put  on,  to  prevent  noise  and  re- 
sistance. I  never  saw  it  worn  by  any  one  for  a  mo- 
ment, without  throwing  them  into  severe  sufferings. 
If  permitted,  they  would  scream  in  the  most  shock- 
ing manner,  and  always  writhed  as  much  as  their 
confinement  would  allow.  I  can  speak  from  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  this  punishment,  as  I  have  en- 
dured it  more  than  once ;  and  yet  I  have  no  idea  of 
the  cause  of  the  pain.  I  never  examined  one  of  the 
caps,  nor  saw  the  inside,  for  they  are  always  brought 
and  taken  away  quickly ;  but  although  the  first  sen- 
sation was  that  of  coolness,  it  was  hardly  put  on  my 
bead  before  a  violent  and  indisoribable  sensation  be- 


ov  Ttuxu.  itomt. 


181 


f'tw  ■^VL 


>art- 

ipon 

most 

paia- 

rain- 

ipnd- 

c  Baw 

of  the 

asure. 

when 

Bome- 

These 

room, 


pran,  like  that  of  a  blister,  ouly  muoli  more  foBtipport- 
able:  and  thiB  co)i tinned  until  it  was  remoyed.  It 
would  produce  sucii  an  acute  pain  as  to  throw  ub  in« 
to  oonyulsioQB,  and  I  think  no  human  being  could, 
endure  it  for  an  hour.  After  thiB  puniBhmeut,  w& 
felt  itB  effect  through  the  eystem  for  man^  daysf 
Having  once  known  what  it  wae  by  expenence,  I 
held  the  cap  in  dread,  and  whenever  I  waB  condemn* 
ed  to  suffer  the  punishment  again,  felt  ready  to  do 
anything  to  avoid  it.  But  when  tied  and  gaggled, 
with  the  cap  on  my  bead  again,  I  could  onljr  aink 
upon  the  floor,  and  roll  about  in  anguish  until  it  was 
taken  off. 

ThiB  waB  usually  done  in  about  ten  minutoB,  some- 
times less,  but  the  pain  always  continued  in  my  head 
for  several  dayo.  I  thought  that  it  might  take  awav 
a  person's  reason  if  kept  on  a  much  longer  time,  it 
I  had  not  been  gagged,  I  am  sure  I  should  have  ut- 
tered awful  screams.  I  have  felt  the  effects  for  a 
week.  Sometimes  fresh  cabbage  leaves  were  applied 
to  my  head  to  remove  it.  Having  had  no  opportu- 
nity to  examine  my  head,  I  connot  say  more. 

CHAPTER  XVm. 

The  punishment  of  the  Cap— The  prists  of  the  district  of 
Montreal  have  free  access  to  the  Black  Nunnery— 
Crimes  committed  and  required  by  them— The  Pope's 
command  to  commit  indecent  crimes  -  Characters  ot  the 
old  and  new  Superiors -The  timidity  of  the  latter— I 
began  to  be  employed  in  the  hospitals—Some  account  of 
them— Warning  given  me  by  a  sick  nun— Penance  of 
hanging. 

This  punishment  was  occasionally  resorted  to  for 
verv  trifling  offences,  such  as  washiog  the  hands 
without  permission ;  and  it  was  generally  applied 
on  the  spot,  and  before  the  other  nuns  in  comma* 
nitv-rooms. 

I  have  mentioned  before,  that  the  oountry,  so  far 
down  as  the  Three  Bivers,  is  furnished  with  priests 


^1 

^^M^^tn 

i^ 

»^\  w9 

3^'^ 

■3**1 

-  ■--v*d|[ 

,^ 

K'irjp 

^^M 

Hp.% 

J^l 

&^j?.s-!h 

oi 

M^ 

*Kyi 

'M 

r*ss>r 


U% 


XWVtfL  BtdO^SOUKS 


l^y  the  Seminary  of  Montreal ;  and  that  tliese  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men  are  liable  to  be  oocasionally  trans- 
ferred from  one  station  to  another.  Numbers  of 
them  are  often  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  of  Montreal, 
as  they  may  find  a  home  in  the  Seminary. 

They  are  considered  as  having  an  equal  right  to 
enter  the  Black  Nunnery  whenever  they  please ;  and 
then,  according  to  our  oaths,  they  have  complete  con- 
trol over  the  nuns.  To  name  all  the  works  of  shame 
of  which  they  are  guilty  in  tl»at  retreat,  would  re- 
quire much  time  and  space,  neither  would  it  be  ne- 
cessary to  the  accomplishment  of  my  object,  which 
isy  the  publication  of  but  some  of  their  criminality 
to  the  world,  and  the  development,  in  general  terms, 
of  scenes  thus  far  carried  on  in  secret  within  the 
walls  of  that  Convent,  where  I  was  so  long  an  inmate. 

Secure  against  detection  by  the  world,  they  never 
believed  that  an  eye-witness  would  ever  escape  to 
tell  of  their  crimes,  and  declare  some  of  their  names 
before  the  world ;  but  the  time  has  come,  and  some 
of  their  deeds  of  darkness  must  come  to  the  day.  I 
have  seen  in  the  Nunnery,  the  priests  from  more,  I 
presume,  than  a  hundred  country  places,  admitted 
for  shamefuland  criminal  purposes;  from  St.  Charles, 
St.  Deuis,  St.  Mark's,  St.  Antoine^  Chambly,  Bertier, 
St.  John's,  &c. 

How  unexpected  to  them  will  be  the  disclosures  I 
make !  Shut  up  in  a  place  from  which  there  has  been 
thought  to  be  but  one  way  of  egress,  and  that  the 
passage  to  the  grave,  they  considered  themselves 
Bsie  in  perpetrating  crimes  in  our  presence,  and  in 
making  us  share  in  their  criminality  as  often  as  they 
ohose,  and  conducted  more  shamelessly  than  even 
the  brutes. 

These  debauchees  would  come  in  without  oere- 
SDony,  ooncealing  their  names,  both  by  night  and  day. 
Being  within  the  walls  of  that  prison-house  of  death, 
where  the  cries  and  pains  of  the  injoxed  innocence 
9i  their  mtims  would  never  xeaoh  toe  world,  toi  re« 


OF  KABUL  HOKX. 


183 


lief  or  redrMS  for  their  wrongs,  without  remorse  or 
shame,  the^^  would  glory^  not  only  in  sating  their 
brotal  passions,  but  even  m  torturing,  in  the  most 
barbarous  manner,  the  feelings  of  those  under  their 
power ;  telling  us  at  the  same  time,  that  this  morti- 
fying the  flesh  was  religion,  and  pleasincr  to  Qod. 
The  more  they  could  torture  us,  or  make  us  violate 
our  own  feelings,  the  more  pleasure  they  took  in 
their  unclean  revellinpr ;  and  all  their  brutal  obscen- 
ity they  called  meritorious  before  God. 

We  were  sometimes  invited  to  put  ourselves  to  vo> 
luntary  sufferings  in  a  variety  of  ways,  not  for  a 
penance,  but  to  show  our  devotion  to  God.  A  priest 
would  sometimes  say  to  us — 

**  Now,  which  of  you  have  love  enough  for  Jesus 
Christ  to  stick  a  pin  through  your  cheeks  P" 

Some  of  us  would  signify  our  readiness,  and  imme^ 
diately  thrust  one  through  up  to  the  head.  Some> 
times  ne  would  propose  that  we  should  repeat  tlie 
operation  several  times  on  the  spot ;  and  the  cheeks 
of  a  number  of  the  nuns  would  be  bloody. 

There  were  other  acts  occasionally  proposed  and 
consented  to,  which  I  cannot  name  in  a  book.  Such 
the  Superior  would  sometimes  command  us  to  per- 
form ;  many  of  them,  thin^^s  not  only  useless  and 
unheard  of,  but  loathsome  and  indecent  in  the  hi(<h- 
est  possible  degree.  How  they  ever  could  have  been 
invented,  I  never  could  conceive.  Things  were  done 
worse  than  the  entire  exposure  of  the  person,  though 
this  was  occasionally  required  of  several  at  once  in 
the  rresence  of  priests. 

The  Superior  of  the  Seminary  would  sometimes 
come  and  inform  us,  that  she  had  received  orders 
from  the  Pope,  to  request  that  those  nuns  who  pos- 
sessed the  greatest  devotion  and  faith,  should  be  re- 
quested to  perform  some  particular  deeds,  which  she 
named  or  described  in  our  presence,  but  of  which  no 
decent  or  moral  person  could  ever  venture  to  speak. 
I  qannot  repoat  what  would  injure  auv  ear.  not  df* 


134 


AWFUL  DISCLOSUBSS 


based  to  the  lowest  possible  degree.  I  am  bound  by 
a  regard  to  truth,  however,  to  confess,  that  deladed 
women  were  found  among  us,  who  would  comply 
with  their  requests. 

There  was  a  great  difference  between  the  charac- 
ters of  our  old  and  new  Superiors,  which  soon  be- 
came obvious.  The  former  used  to  say  she  liked  to' 
walk,  because  it  would  prevent  her  from  becoming 
corpulent.  She  was,  therefore,  very  active,  and  con- 
^stantly  going  about  from  one  part  of  the  Nunnery 
to  another,  overseeing  us  at  our  various  employ- 
ments. I  never  saw  in  her  any  appearance  of  timid- 
ity ;  she  seemed,  on  the  contrary,  bold  and  mascu- 
line, and  sometimes  much  more  than  that,  cruel  and 
cold-blooded,  in  scenes  calculated  to  overcome  any 
common  person.  Such  a  character  she  had  particu- 
larly exhibited  at  the  murder  of  St.  Frances. 

The  new  Superior,  on  the  other  hand,  was  so  heavy 
and  lame,  that  she  walked  with  much  difficulty,  and 
consequently  exercised  a  less  vigilant  oversight  of 
the  nuns.  She  was  also  of  a  timid  disposition,  or 
else  had  been  overcome  by  some  great  fright  in  her 
past  life  ;  for  she  was  apt  to  become  alarmed  in  the 
night,  and  never  liked  to  be  alone  in  the  dark.  She 
had  long  performed  the  part  of  an  old  nun,  which  is 
that  of  a  spy  upon  the  younger  ones,  and  was  well 
known  to  us  in  that  character,  under  the  name  of 
St.  Margarite.  Soon  after  her  promotion  to  the  sta- 
tion of  Superior,  she  appointed  me  to  sleep  in  her 
apartment,  and  assigned  me  a  sofa  to  lie  upon.  One 
night,  while  I  was  asleep,  she  suddenly  threw  her- 
self upon  me,  and  exclaimed,  in  great  alarm,  **  Oh ! 
mon  Dieu !  mou  Dieu !  qu'estque  ca  P"  ^Oh !  my 
God!  my  God!  what  is  that?)  I  jumped  up  and 
looked  about  the  room,  but  saw  nothing,  and  endea- 
voured to  convince  her  that  there  was  nothing  ex- 
traordinary there.  But  she  insisted  that  a  ghost  had 
come  and  held  her  bed -curtain,  so  that  she  could  not 
^aw  |tf    I  e$ai9iue4  it^  and  f o^nd  tba(  the  curtfti^ 


pen, 

thep 

patie 

minis 

Heft 

thep 

edin 

coursi 

and  c 

am  to 

fidenc 

firmn 


■■ 


Bi.lll. 


LLJ-LoUll 


07  ICASUl  UONX. 


ISC 


,„<rf 


had  been  caught  b]^  a  pin  in  the  valence,  which  had 
held  it  back ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  tranquilize 
her  for  some  time.  She  insisted  on  my  sleeping  with 
her  the  rest  of  the  night,  and  I  stretched  myself  across 
^  the  foot  of  her  bed,  and  slept  there  till  morning. 
During  the  last  part  of  my  stay  in  the  Convent, 
I- was  often  employed  in  attending  in  the  hospitals. 
There  are,  as  I  have  before  mentioned,  several  apart- 
ments devoted  to  the  sick,  and  there  is  a  physician 
of  Montreal,  who  attends  as  physician  to  the  Con- 
vent. It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  he 
knows  anything  concerning  the  private  hospitals.  It 
is  a  fact  of  great  importance  to  be  distinctly  under- 
stood, and  constantly  borne  in  mind,  that  he  is  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  admitted  into  the  private 
hospital-rooms.  Of  those  he  sees  nothing  more  than 
any  stranger  whatever.  He  is  limited  to  the  care 
of  those  patients  who  are  admitted  from  the  city 
into  the  public  hospital,  and  one  of  the  nuns*  hos- 
pitals, and  these  he  visits  every  day.  Sick  poor  are 
received  for  charity  by  the  institution,  attended  by 
some  of  the  nuns,  and  often  go  away  with  the  high- 
est ideas  of  our  charitable  characters  and  holy  lives. 
The  physician  himself  might,  perhaps,  in  some  cases, 
share  in  the  delusion. 

I  frequently  followed  Dr.  Nelson  through  the  pub- , 
lie  hospital  at  the  direction  of  the  Superior,  with 
pen,  ink,  and  paper,  in  my  hands,  and  wrote  down 
the  prescriptions  which  he  ordered  for  the  different 
patients.  These  were  afterwards  prepared  and  ad- 
ministered by  the  attendants.  About  a  year  before 
I  left  the  Convent,  I  was  first  appointed  to  attend 
the  private  sick-rooms,  and  was  frequently  employ^ 
ed  in  that  duty  up  to  the  day  of  my  departure.  Of 
course,  I  had  opportunities  to  observe  the  nuuber 
and  classes  of  patients  treated  there ;  and  in  what  I 
am  to  say  on  the  subject,  I  appeal,  with  perfect  con- 
fidence, to  any  true  and  competent  witness  to  con- 
firm m^  woirdsi  whenever  such  a  witness  may  appear 


186 


AWFT7L  DISOLOSX7BB8 


It  would  be  yain  for  any  body  who  has  mereljr  Yi« 
Bited  the  Gonveat  from  ouriouty,  or  resided  in  it  as 
a  novice,  to  question  my  declarations.  Such  a  per* 
son  must  necessarily  be  ignorant  of  eren  the  exist* 
ence  of  the  private  rooms,  unless  informed  by  some 
one  else.  Such  rooms,  however,  there  are,  and  I  could 
relate  many  things  which  have  passed  there  duriuff 
the  hours  I  was  employed  in  them,  as  I  have  stated. 

One  night  I  was  called  to  sit  up  with  an  old  nun. 
named  St.  Glare,  who,  in  going  down  stairs,  had 
dislocated  a  limb,  and  lay  iu  a  sick-room  adjoining 
the  hospital.  She  seemed  to  be  a  little  out  of  her 
head  a  part  of  the  time,  but  appeared  to  be  quite  in 
possession  of  her  reason  most  of  the  night.  It  was 
easy  to  pretend  that  she  was  delirious ;  but  I  con- 
sidered her  as  speakiug  the  truth,  though  I  felt  re- 
luctant to  repeat  what  I  heard  her  say,  and  excused 
myself  from  meotioniog  it  even  at  confession,  on  the 
ground  that  the  Superior  thought  her  deranged. 

What  led  he^  to  some  of  the  most  remarkable  parts 
of  her  conversation  was,  a  motion  I  made,  in  the 
course  of  the  ui<;ht,  to  take  the  light  out  of  her  little 
room  into  the  adjoining  apartment,  to  look  once  more 
at  the  sick  persons  there.  She  begged  me  not  to 
leave  her  a  moment  iu  the  dark,  for  she  could  not 
bear  it.  '*  I  have  witnessed  so  many  hoitid  scenes," 
said  she,  ''in  this  Gon vent,  that  I  want  somebody 
near  me  constantly,  and  must  always  have  a  light- 
burning  in  my  room.  I  cannot  tell  you,"  she  added, 
*'  what  things  I  remember,  for  they  would  frighten 
you  too  much.  What  you  have  seen  are  nothing  to 
them.  Many  a  murder  have  I  witnessed ;  many  a 
nice  }[oung  creature  has  been  killed  in  this  Nunnery. 
I  advise  you  to  be  very  cautious — keep  everything  to 
yourself —there  are  many  here  ready  to  betray  you." 

What  it  was  that  induced  the  old  nun  to  express 
80  much  kindness  to  me  I  could  not  tell,  unless  she 
was  frightened  at  the  recollection  of  her  own  crimes, 
iMiid  thos9  ot  otherS|  aud  felt  grat^ul  |or  the  pare  I 


Of 


A 


wm 


i^sm 


tf 


iresB 
she 


f»t 


OF  lOItU  KONZ. 


m 


took  of  her.  She  had  heen  one  of  the  ni^ht  watchei^ 
and  never  hefore  showed  me  any  particular  kind- 
ness. She  did  not  indeed  go  into  detail  concerniug 
the  transactions  to  which  she  alluded,  hut  told  me 
that  some  nuns  had  heen  murdered  under  great  a<ir- 
gravations  of  cruelty,  hy  heing  gagged,  and  left  to 
starve  in  the  cells,  or  haviug  their  flesh  burned  off 
their  hones  with  red  hot  irons. 

It  was  uncommon  to  find  compunction  expressed 
by  any  of  the  nuns.  Habit  renders  us  insensible  to 
the  sufferings  of  others,  and  careless  about  our  own 
sins.  I  had  become  so  hardened  myself,  that  I  find 
it  difficult  to  rid  myself  of  many  of  my  former  false 
principles  and  views  of  right  and  wrong. 

I  was  one  day  set  to  wash  some  empty  bottles 
from  the  cellar,  which  had  contained  the  liquid  that 
was  poured  into  the  cemetery  there.  A  number  of 
these  had  been  brought  from  the  corner  where  so 
many  of  them  were  always  to  be  seen,  and  placed  at 
the  head  of  the  cellar  stairs,  and  there  we  were  re- 
quired to  take  them  and  wash  them  out.  We  poured 
in  water  and  rinsed  them  ;  a  few  drops  which  got 
upon  our  clothes  soon  made  holes  in  them.  I  think 
the  liquid  was  called  vitriol,  or  some  such  name, 
and  1  heard  some  persons  say  that  it  would  soon 
destroy  the  fiesh  and  even  the  bones  of  the  dead. 
At  another  time,  we  were  furnished  with  a  little  oi[ 
the  liquid,  which  was  mixed  with  a  quant^y  of 
water,  and  used  in  dyin^  some  cloth  black,  which 
was  wanted  at  funerals  in  the  chapel.  Our  hands 
were  turned  very  black  by  being  dipped  in  it,  but  a 
few  drops  of  some  other  liquid  were  mixed  with 
fresh  water,  and  given  us  to  wash  in,  which  left 
our  skin  of  a  bright  red. 

The  bottles  of  which  I  spoke  were  made  of  rety 
thick  dark-coloured  glass,  large  at  the  bottom,  and, 
I  should  say,  held  something  less  than  a  gallon. 

I  was  once  much  shocked,  on  entering  the  room 
for  th9  ea^amioatiou  o|  9ou8cieuce|  at  seeing  a  Jom% 


I 


188 


AWFUL  DXSGLOSUBBB 


hanf^ng  by  a  cord  from  a  nag  in  the  oeilfaigr»  with 
her  bead  downward.  Her  clothes  had  been  tied 
round  with  a  leathern  strap,  to  keep  them  in  their 
place,  and  then  she  had  been  fastened  in  that  situ- 
ation, with  her  head  some  distance  from  the  floor. 
Her  face  had  a  very  unpleasant  appearance,  being 
dark  coloured,  and  swollen  by  the  rushini^^  in  of  the 
blood ;  her  hands  were  tied,  and  her  month  stopped 
with  a  larffe  gag.  This  nun  proved  to  be  no  other 
than  Jane  Ilay,  who  for  some  fault  had  been  con- 
demned to  this  punishment. 

This  was  not,  howeyer,  a  solitary  case ;  I  heard 
of  numbers  who  were  "  hung,"  as  it  was  called,  at 
different  times  ;  and  I  saw  St.  Hj^polite  and  St.  Luke 
undergoing  it.  This  was  considered  a  most  dis- 
tressing punishment ;  and  it  was  the  only  one  which 
Jane  "E^j  could  not  endure,  of  all  she  had  tried. 

Some  of  the  nuns  would  allude  to  it  in  her  pre- 
sence, but  it  usually  made  her  angry.  It  was  pro- 
bably practised  in  the  same  place  while  I  was  a 
novice,  but  I  never  heard  or  thought  of  such  a  thing 
in  those  days.  Whenever  we  wished  to  enter  the 
room  for  the  examination  of  conscience,  we  had  to 
ask  leave,  and,  after  some  delay,  were  permitted  to 
go,  but  always  under  a  strict  charge  to  bend  the 
head  forward,  and  keep  the  eyes  fixed  uponthe  floor. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

llore  visits  to  the  imprisooed  nuns— Their  fears— Others 
temporarily  put  into  the  cells— Relics— The  Agnus  Dei 
—The  priests'  private  hospital,  or  Holy  Retreat— Secret 
rooms  m  the  eastern  wing — Reports  of  murders  in  the 
convent— The  Superior's  private  records — ^Number  of 
nuns  in  the  convent— Desire  of  escape— Urgent  reason 
for  it— Plan— Deliberation— Attempt— Success. 

I OVTBN  seized  an  opportunity,  when  I  safely  conld, 
to  speak  a  oheeiiug  or  friendly  word  to  one  of  the 
poor  prisoners,  in  passing  their  cells,  on  my  errands 
10  the  celhira.     For  a  time  I  supposed  them  to  b9 


OBSSS- 


m 


)nld, 

the 

10(1  s 

h9 


OF  XABIA.  VONS. 


189 


lifters;  bat  I  afterwards  discovered  that  this  was 
not  the  case.  I  found  that  they  were  always  under  ' 
the  fear  of  sufferinfr  some  puuishment,  in  case  they 
should  be  found  talking  with  a  person. not  commis- 
sioned to  attend  them.  They  would  often  ask,  "  Is 
not  somebodjr  comiufir  p*' 

I  could  easily  belieye  what  I  heard  affirmed  by 
others,  that  fear  was  the  severest  of  their  sufferings. 
Confined  in  the  dark,  iu  so  gloomy  a  place,  with  the 
long  arched  cellar  stretching  off  this  way  and  that, 
visited  only  now  and  then  by  a  solitary  nun,  with 
whom  they  were  afraid  to  speak  their  feelings,  and 
with  only  the  miserable  society  of  each  other ;  how 
gloomy  thus  to  spend  day  after  day,  months,  and 
even  years,  without  any  prospect  of  liberation,  and 
liable  at  any  moment  to  another  fate  to  which  the 
Bishop  or  Superior  might  condemn  them.  But  these 

Eoor  creatures  must  have  known  something  of  the 
ori^ors  perpetrated  in  other  parts  of  the  building, 
and  could  not  have  been  ignorant  of  the  hole  in  the 
cellar,  which  was  not  far  from  the  cells,  and  the  use 
to  which  it  was  devoted.  One  of  them  told  me,  in 
confidence,  she  wished  they  could  get  out.  They 
must  also  have  been  often  disturbed  iu  their  sleep, 
if  they  ever  did  sleep,  by  the  numerous  priests  who 

?assed  through  the  trap-door  at  no  great  distance, 
'o  be  subject  to  such  trials  for  a  single  da?  would 
be  dreadful ;  but  these  nuns  had  them  to  endure  for 
years. 

I  often  felt  much  compassion  for  them,  and  wish- 
ed to  see  them  released ;  but  at  other  times,  yielding 
to  the  doctrine  perpetually  tau<?ht  us  iu  the  Convent, 
that  our  future  happiness  would  be  proportioned  to 
the  sufferings  we  had  to  undergo  in  this  world,  I 
would  rest  satisfied  that  their  imprisonment  was  a 
real  blessing  to  them. 

Others,  I  presume,  participated  with  me  in  sooh 
feelings.  One  Sunday  afternoon,  after  we  bad  per- 
f  1  rm«d  nU  onr  cexemouie8|  and  weipe  engage^  &• 


140 


▲WFUL  BISOLOSlTXtBS 


iisaal,  at  that  time,  with  baokgammon  and  other 
amusementSy  one  of  the  young  nuns  ezclalmed^ 
"  Oh  !  how  headstrong  are  those  wretches  in  the 
oells,  they  are  as  bad  as  the  day  they  were  put  in  I" 

This  ezclamatioa  was  made,  as  I  supposed,  in  oon« 
sequence  of  some  recent  nouversation  with  them,  as 
I  knew  her  to  be  particularly  acquainted  with  the 
older  one. 

Some  of  the  vacant  cells  were  occasionally  nsed 
for  temporary  imprisonment.  Three  nuns  were  con- 
fined in  them,  to  my  knowledge,  for  disobedience 
to  the  Superior,  as  she  called  it.  The^r  did  not  join 
the  rest  iu  singing  in  the  evening,  being  exhausted 
in  the  various  exertions  of  the  day.  The  Superior 
ordered  them  to  sing ;  and,  as  they  did  not  comply, 
after  the  command  had  been  twice  repeated,  she  or- 
dered them  away  to  the  cells. 

They  were  immediately  taken  down  into  the  cel- 
lar, placed  in  separate  dungeons,  and  the  door  shut 
and  barred  upon  them.  There  they  remained  through 
the  night,  the  following  day  and  second  night,  but 
were  released  in  time  to  attend  mass  on  the  second 
morniug. 

The  Superior  used  occasionally  to  show  somethinor 
in  a  glass  box,  which  we  were  required  to  regard 
with  the  highest  decree  of  reverence.  It  was  made 
of  wax,  and  called  an  Agnus  Dei.  She  used  to  exhi- 
bit it  to  us  when  we  were  in  a  8ta\':e  of  grace ;  that 
is,  after  coiifesssion  and  before  Sncrnment.  She 
said  it  had  been  blessed  in  the  very  dish  in  which  our 
Saviour  had  eaten.  It  was  brou<^ht  from  Borne. 
Every  time  we  kissed  it,  or  even  looked  at  it,  we 
were  told  it  gave  a  hundred  days'  release  from  pur- 
gatory to  ourselves,  or  if  we  did  not  need  it,  to  our 
next  of  kin  in  purgatory,  if  not  a  Protestant.  If 
we  had  no  such  kinsman,  the  benefit  was  to  go  to  the 
souls  in  purgatory  pot  prayed  for. 

Jane  Bay  would  sometimes  say  to  me,  **  Let's  kisi 
|t— 9om^  ofouf  trieuds  irill  thank  ^^  |uj:  i^" 


, 


] 
tiei 
hai 
•roo 
the 
low 
wai 
stai 
reti] 
thin 
Stan 
me, 
Tl 
won 
parti 
lora 
bless 
der  o 
guiaz 
Blacb 
joyed 
parts 
oldni 
north 
her  so 
pullo 
never 
and 
place, 
on  the 
what 
eacho 
in  the 
positoi 
She 
could  I 
sented 
the  ns< 
most  hi 


^ 


■WW*! 


■^M 


>me. 

wo 
Ipur- 

out 
If 
lotbe 


09  ttAlttl  icom. 


141 


1  havebeeu  repeatedly  employed  in  carrying  dain- 
ties of  different  kinds  into  the  little  private  room  I 
have  mentioned,  next  beyond  the  Buperior'a  sitting- 
room,  in  the  second  story,  which  the  priests  made 
their  **  Holy  Reireaf"  That  room  I  never  was  al- 
lowed to  enter.  I  could  onljr  go  to  the  door  with  a 
waiter  of  refreshments,  set  it  down  upon  a  little 
stand  near  it,  give  three  raps  on  the  door,  and  then 
retire  to  a  distance  to  await  orders.  When  any- 
thing was  to  be  taken  away,  it  was  placed  on  the 
stand  by  the  Superior,  who  then  gave  three  raps  for 
me,  and  closed  the  door. 

The  Bishop  I  saw  at  least  once,  when  he  appeared 
worse  for  wine,  or  something  of  the  kind.  After 
partaking  of  refreshments  in  the  Convent,  he  sent 
for  all  the  nuns,  and  on  our  appearance,  gave  us  his 
blessiug,  and  put  a  piece  of  pound  cake  on  the  shouU 
der  of  each  of  us,  in  a  manner  which  appeared  sin- 
gular and  foolish.  There  are  three  rooms  in  the 
Black  Nunnery,  which  I  never  entered.  I  had  en- 
joyed much  liberty,  and  had  seen,  as  I  supposed,  all 
parts  of  the  building,  when  one  day  I  observed  an 
old  nun  go  to  a  corner  of  an  apartment  ne&r  the 
northern  end  of  the  western  wing,  push  the  end  of 
her  scissors  into  a  crack  in  the  panelled  wall,  and 
pull  out  a  door.  I  was  much  surprised,  because  I 
never  had  conjectured  that  any  door  was  there; 
and  it  appeared,  when  I  afterwards  examined  the 
place,  that  no  indication  of  it  could  be  discovered 
on  the  closest  scrutiny.  I  stepped  forward  to  see 
what  was  within,  ana  saw  three  rooms  opening  into 
each  other  ;  but  the  nun  refused  to  admit  me  with« 
in  the  door,  which  she  said  led  to  rooms  kept  as  de« 
positories. 

She  herself  entered  and  dosed  the  door,  so  that  I 
could  not  satisfy  my  curiosity ;  and  no  occasion  pre- 
sented itself.  I  always  had  a  strong  desire  to  know 
the  use  of  these  apartments ;  for  1  am  sure  thev 
most  have  been  designed  for  tome  purpose  of  whica 


143 


▲WFITL  I>XSCIX>8UUE8 


I  was  intentionally  kept  id^norant,  otherwise  they 
neTer  would  haye  remained  unknown  to  me  so  lon|(. 
Besides,  the  old  nun  evidently  had  some  strong  rea- 
son for  deny ingr  me  admission,  though  she  endea- 
Toured  to  quiet  my  curiosity. 

The  Superior,  after  my  admission  into  the  Oon- 
▼ent,  had  told  me  I  had  access  to  eyery  room  in  the 
building ;  and  I  had  seen  places  which  bore  wit- 
ness to  the  cruelties  and  the  crimes  committed  un- 
der her  commands  or  sanction ;  but  here  was  a  suo- 
oession  of  rooms  which  had  been  concealed  from 
me,  and  so  constructed  as  if  designed  to  be  un« 
known  to  all  but  a  few.  I  am  sure  that  any  per- 
son, who  might  be  able  to  examine  the  wall  in  that 
place,  would  pronounce  that  secret  door  a  surpri- 
sing piece  of  work.  I  neyer  saw  anything  of  the 
kind  which  appeared  to  me  so  ingenious  and  skil- 
fully made.  I  told  Jane  Bay  what  I  had  seen,  and 
she  said  at  once,  '*  We  will  get  in  and  see  what  is 
there."  But  I  suppose  she  neyer  found  an  oppor- 
tunity. 

I  naturally  felt  a  good  deal  of  curiosity  to  learn 
whether  such  soenes,  as  I  had  witnessed  in  the  death 
of  Saint  Frances,  were  common  or  rare,  and  took 
an  opportunity  to  inquire  of  Jane  B^^y.     Her  reply 


'*0h,  yes;  and  there  were  many  murdered  while 
yon  were  a  noyice,  wliom  you  heard  nothing  about.*' 

This  was  all  I  ever  learnt  on  this  subject ;  but 
although  I  was  told  nothing  of  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  killed,  I  suppose  it  to  be  the  same  which 
I  had  seen  practised,  namely,  by  smothering. 

I  went  into  the  Superior  s  parlour  one  day  for 
something,  and  found  Jane  Bay  there  alone,  looking 
into  a  book  with  an  appearance  of  interest.  I  asked 
her  what  it  was,  but  she  made  some  trifling  answer, 
and  laid  it  by  as  if  unwilling  to  let  me  take  it.  There 
are  two  bookcases  in  the  room ;  one  on  the  right  as 
yoa  Miter  the  door,  and  the  other  opposite,  near  the 


tu 
se< 
II 

lid' 

ser 

loo 

unc 

the 

my 

S< 

sent 

it; 

shei 

con8< 

erali 

near] 

twoi 

cular 

as  I 

lookei 
Th« 
ance, 
very  I 

Ididi 

that  i 

Would 

,Ith< 

I  stiJI : 

that  th 

and  no 

had  tal 

descrip 

lowing 

real,  bu 

Saint 

Saint 

Saint 

Worn 


1^^ 


Ba- 
oa- 

on- 
the 
nt- 
un- 

(UO- 

rom 
un- 

per- 
that 
rpri- 
the 
skil- 
,  and 
latis 
)por- 

learn 
eath 
took 

Ireply 


oy  ItARIA  ICONS. 


window  and  tliu  sofa.  The  former  contains  the  lec- 
ture books  and  other  printed  volumes,  the  latter 
seemed  to  be  filled  with  note  and  account  books. 
I  have  often  seen  the  keys  in  the  bookcases  while  I 
have  been  dusting  the  furniture,  and  sometimes  ob- 
served letters  stuck  up  in  the  room ;  although  I  never 
looked  into  one,  or  thought  of  doing  so.  We  were 
under  strict  orders  not  to  touch  any  of  them,  and 
the  idea  of  sins  and  penances  was  always  presentin 
my  mind. 

Some  time  after  the  occasion  mentioned,  I  was 
sent  into  the  Superior's  room  with  Jane,  to  arrange 
it ;  and  as  the  same  book  was  lyin^  out  of  the  case, 
she  said,  **  Gome  let  us  look  into  it."  I  immediately 
consented,  and  we  opened  it,  and  turned  over  sev« 
eral  leaves.  It  was  about  a  foot  and  a  half  lonj?,  as 
nearly  as  I  can  remember,  a  foot  wide,  and  about 
two  inches  thick,  though  I  cannot  speak  with  parti- 
cular precision,  as  Jane  frightened  me  almost  as  soon 
as  I  touched  it,  by  exclaiming,  **  There,  you  have 
looked  into  it,  and  if  you  tell  of  me,  I  will  of  you.'* 

The  thought  of  being  subjected  to  a  severe  pen. 
ance,  which  I  had  reason  to  apprehend,  fluttered  me 
very  much  ;  and,  although  I  tried  to  cover  my  fears, 
I  did  not  succeed  very  well.  I  reflected,  however, 
that  ihe  siu  was  already  committed,  and  l^hatit 
would  not  be  increased  if  I  examined  the  book. 

I  therefore  looked  a  little  at  several  pages,  though 
I  still  felt  a  good  deal  of  agitation.  1  saw  at  once 
that  the  volume  was  a  record  of  the  entrance  of  nuns 
and  novices  into  the  Convent,  and  of  the  births  that 
bad  taken  place  in  the  Convent.  Entries  of  the  last 
description  were  made  in  a  brief  manner,  on  the  foU 
lowing  plan :  I  do  not  give  the  names  or  dates  aa 
real,  but  only  to  show  the  form  of  entering  them. 

Saint  Mary,  delivered  of  a  son,  March  16,  1834. 

Saint  Glance  „  daughter,  April  2. 

Saint  Matilda        „  daughter,  April  30,  fto. 

Ko  mentioa  wai  made  in  the  book  of  the  deatUh  of 


* 


lU 


AWFUL  DISCLOSUilES 


the  children,  ihongh  I  well  knew  not  lone  of  them 
could  be  living  at  that  time. 

Now  I  presume  that  the  period  the  book  embraced 
was  about  two  years,  as  several  names  near  the  be. 
einniog  I  knew ;  but  I  can  form  only  a  rough  con- 
jecture of  the  number  of  infants  born,  and  murder- 
ed, of  course,  records  of  which  it  contained.  I  sup- 
pose  the  book  contained  at  least  one  hundred  pages, 
and  one  fourth  were  written  upon,  and  that  each 
page  contained  fifteen  distinct  records.  Several 
pages  were  devoted  to  the  list  of  births.  On  this  sup. 

Josition  there  must  have  been  a  large  number,  which 
can  easily  believe  to  have  been  bom  there  in  the 
course  of  two  years. 

What  were  the  contents  of  the  other  books  be- 
longing to  the  same  case  with  that  which  I  had  look- 
ed into,  I  have  no  idea,  having  never  dared  to  touch 
one  of  them  ;  I  believe,  however,  that  Jane  Bay  was 
well  acquainted  with  them,  knowing,  as  I  do,  her 
intelligence  and  prying  disposition.  If  she  could  he 
brought  to  give  her  testimony,  she  would  doubtless 
unfold  many  curious  particulars  now  unknown. 

I  am  able,  in  consequence  of  a  circumstance  which 
appeared  accidental,  to  state  with  confidence  the  ex- 
act number  of  persons  in  the  Convent  one  day  of  the 
week  in  which  I  left  it.  This  may  be  a  point  of  some 
interest,  as  several  deaths  had  occurred  since  my 
taking  the  veil,  and  many  burials  had  been  openly 
made  in  the  chapel. 

I  was  appointed,  at  the  time  mentioned,  to  lay  out 
the  covers  for  all  the  inmates  of  the  Convent,  includ- 
iufif  the  nuns  in  the  cells.  These  covers,  as  I  have 
said  before,  were  linen  bands,  to  be  bound  around  the 
knives,  forks,  spoons,  and  napkins,  for  eating.  These 
were  for  all  the  nuns  and  novices,  and  amounted  to 
two  hundred  and  ten.  As  the  number  of  novices  was 
then  about  thirty,  I  know  that  there  must  have  been 
at  that  time  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  vailed  nuns. 

I  was  ocoaaionallj  troubled  wiUi  a  desire  of  escap- 


them 

traced 
babe, 
bcon- 
urder- 
I  sup- 
pages, 
kt  each 
Several 
is  sap- 
which 
in  the 

ks  be- 
1  look- 
>  touch 
Eiy  was 
io,  her 
>uld  be 
ubtlesa 
rn. 

)  which 
the  ex- 
r  of  the 
)f  some 
ice  my 
openly 

lay  out 
iudud- 
\  I  have 
and  the 
,  These 
nted  to 
ices  was 
TO  been 
)dnuDB. 
lesoap- 


%  lK)m  thttf  Kunner 


OF  JOBIA  Moim. 


>    .m^ 


79  and 


much 


U6 


led 


-:"•«.*  swieved  that  it  w«?t*'?'"'*"»  "'••  in  my 
did  not  fail  to  confe««  «t^S!  *  ""' »  Sf"**  «'n.  ml 
felt  discontent.     My  ^n**'!**^  .opportunity,  tLrt  I 

had  beguQ  to  pray  to  SaiSt  Anfh'"'^*'"'"'"'*,  that  he 
intercession  would,  by-and  h^^"-^'  *"<*  ^oped  his 
•pint.      My  desir«  n#  «.        °J^'  **'"^«  «way  the  B»ii 

thefearofb^iSlf;an^SWhP*'"J  ««^t^S 
of  "y  companions:  or  of  teki»^^  murderous  hani 
lent  effects  I  too  Well  knew    '^    ^^^  ^''"w  vio- 

tions  I  made  to  dit^Jthaty^^'l  """*  what  exeiC 
nnayailing.  Dunne  eyenwl^°"«''*P'°^ed  ent^f; 
occupied  with  it ;  l„d  wh°n  tC??""  ^  *«<«"»«  q^S 

ti!^'''*^V°'*«»'<»  ""alli^gttol^?^  *"  meditation 
though  I  was  a  (rood  d««  i  *?;•  *  "1°^®' "  I  often  did 
oulty  in  keepinp  awake     wk^"®**.  I  found  no  diffi.' 
over,  and  the  ofher^Sns  JI^^\  *•"»  ««'cise  *„ 

ing  aloie,  reflected  a  C^f"P°"  *•>«  «>'«.  Md  be. 
es«.pin^  which  had  occSl""*«*>'' themaunw^ 
had  arriyed  a  little  beforrat  h.S**  ^*"»  PhysiciiS 
had  now  to  accompany  hlm^»''-P"teiffkt;an« 
hed,  with  pen,  ink    and^f..  "usual  from  bed  to 


1 


140 


XWFVL  DiSOLOStTBfiS 


my  customary  way  was  to  note  down  briefly  his  or- 
ders, in  this  manner — 

1  d.  salts,  St.  Matilde. 

1  blister,  St.  Genevieve,  &o. 

I  remember  that  I  wrote  ttiese  orders  that  evening, 
and  then,  having  finished  the  rounds,  I  returned  for 
a  few  moments  to  the  sitting-room. 

There  were  two  ways  of  access  to  the  street  from 
those  rooms;  first,  the  more  direct,  from  the  passage 
adjoining  the  sick-room  down  stairs,  through  a  door, 
into  the  Nunnery-yard,  and  through  a  wicker  gate : 
that  is  the  way  by  which  the  physician  usually  en- 
ters at  night,  and  he  is  provided  with  a  key  for  that 
purpose. 

It  would  have  been  unsafe,  however,  for  me  to 
pass  out  that  way,  because  a  man  is  kept  continually 
in  the  yard,  near  the  gate,  who  sleeps  at  night  in  a 
small  hut  near  the  door,  to  escape  whose  observation 
would  be  impossible.  My  only  hope,  therefore,  was, 
that  I  might  gain  my  passage  through  the  other  way, 
to  do  which  I  must  pass  through  the  sick-room,  then 
through  a  passage,  or  small  room  usually  occupied 
by  an  old  nun ;  another  passage  and  staircase  lead- 
ing down  to  the  yard,  and  a  large  gate  opening  into 
the  cross  street.  I  had  no  liberty  to  go  beyond  the 
sick-room,  and  knew  that  several  of  the  doors  might 
be  fastened ;  still  I  determined  to  try ;  although  I 
have  often  since  been  astonished  at  my  boldness  in 
undertaking  what  would  expose  me  to  so  many  ha- 
Eards  of  failure,  and  to  severe  punishment  if  found 
out. 

It  seemed  as  if  I  acted  under  some  extraordinary 
impulse,  which  encouraged  me  to  what  I  should 
hardly  at  anv  other  moment  have  thought  of  under- 
taking. I  had  sat  but  a  short  time  upon  the  sofa, 
however,  before  I  rose  with  a  desperate  determina- 
tion to  make  the  experiment.  I  therefore  walked 
hastily  across  the  sick  room,  passed  into  the  nun's 
loonii  walked  by  her  in  a  great  huny,  and  almost 


iipmi*iiy.yiii  i"wii  mivni 


<>*•  arAnu  Wk, 


Uf 


without  piWn»  her  tim^  ♦  ^^^ 

message  J"  and  in  «     •  ®  **^  ^Pea^^  or  thinl-  .o,-j    « 

"•y  hurried '^X^""«t  J  «nd  it  i/^wblM!? 

mislead  them  •  /nd  ff    '  ^^'^^^  n^ay  have  *!!!i  5  *^® 

doors,  with  all  whf nh  t     °®^  reached  had  ifi!*    . 
opposite  side  left  acquainted ;  that  o^^l^ 

I  should  hRr«  i:!?u?.^°*<^.  a  communitir.L^**  ^,  *he 

■»  where 


deemed  necessarv  «.?^l**°*^®»  comprise  aII  4i.  x  , 


mat- 


148 


AWrtTL  DISCLOSmtES 


ron,  engaged  in  ftewinpr,  when  that  Irish  woman, 
employed  lu  the  institution,  eame  in  and  told  me  that 
Mr.  Oonroy  was  below,  and  had  sent  to  see  me.  I 
Was  informed  that  he  was  a  Boman  priest,  who  often 
▼isited  the  house,  and  he  had  a  particular  wish  to 
see  me  at  that  time ;  having  come,  as  I  believe,  ex- 
T  ressly  for  that  purpose.  I  showed  unwillingness  to 
comply  with  such  an  invitation,  and  did  not  go. 

The  woman  told  me,  further,  that  he  sent  me  word 
that  I  need  not  think  to  avoid  him,  for  it  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  do  so,  I  might  conceal  myself  as 
well  as  I  could,  but  I  should  be  found  and  taken. 
No  matter  where  I  went,  or  what  hiding-place  I 
might  choose,  I  should  be  known ;  and  I  had  better 
come  at  once.  He  knew  who  I  was ;  and  he  was  au- 
thorized to  take  me  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  if  I 
should  prefer  to  join  them.  He  would  promise  that 
I  might  stay  with  them  if  I  chose,  and  be  permitted 
to  remain  in  New  York.  He  sent  me  word  further 
that  he  had  received  full  power  and  authority  over 

Se  from  the  Superior  of  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nunnery  at 
Montreal,  and  was  able  to  do  all  that  she  oould  do ; 
as  her  right  to  dispose  of  me  at  her  will  had  been 
imparted  to  him  by  a  regular  writing  received  from 
Canada.  This  was  alarming  information  for  me,  in 
the  weakness  in  which  I  was  at  that  time.  The  wo- 
man added,  that  the  same  authority  had  been  given 
to  all  the  priests ;  so  that  go  where  I  might  I  should 
meet  men  informed  about  me  and  my  escape,  and 
folly  empowered  to  seize  me  whenever  they  could, 
and  convey  me  back  to  the  Convent  from  which  I 
had  escai)e(l. 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  seemed  to  me  that 
the  offer  to  place  me  among  the  Sisters  of  Charity, 
with  permission  to  remain.iu  New  York,  was  mild 
and  f avQMrable.  However,  I  had  resolution  enough 
to  refuse  to  see  priest  Conroy. 

Not  long  afterwards  I  was  informed,  by  the  same 
messenger,  that  the  priest  was  again  iu  the  building, 


OF  KABU  irojfK. 


149 


141 

•night  b,  puWaoTl*^' !"•«*?*'>.  that  •  ftep' 
uo  more  of  them.    A^ho^«'' "  ^.'^•hed  to  rw^S 

to  .je  me,  and  I  sent  b^k  J?'i  **u*  P"*»t  wanted 

which  howeyer,  was  nS  ^LST"  **  ^f'-  8--!t 
ward,  informed  that  Mr  Sf  ***V*"i  ^  ^m  af terJ 
•pent  an  hour  in  the  roim  a '2^' *•«*>  ^"""'  ?"«{ 
had  frequently  been :  but  S^„„i.V*'»*«f«  where  t 
I  was  employed  at  «n«il'  '"""Kh  the  mei«y  of  Go/ 

I  afterwards  repeatldlThea J  ♦K°"j'i'"'«  met  hfai 
tinned  to  visit  theZuse  ^' J''**  J^I'  CoMoyoo?.* 
never  saw  him     T  /.„     ?'  3""  to  ask  for  ma  •  w  » 

institution.  aSd  kI  to  tteif.?*"™'J«»  "'eivJihl 

circumstances oMuwedwhifw"  "'  Charity;  iSi 
ther  reflection ;  and!  wm  '  il£?'S  "*«  *'•»«  »'  fa?! 
tion  to  which  I  should  have  hISn  ''°'"  *''«  dwtrol 

A»  the  period  of  mv  ^^.  i  °  «Po«>d. 
spmetimei  thought  S^f Tt""^!"**"*  ^PPWaohed  T 
then  the recolleltion  of  \t°^^^  52* •"nwU -^J 
witnessed  in  the Tunn/r„  1  dreadful  crime,  f  Kd 
powerfully,  and  I  woutd^ S''f°'»«"'P°n  me  v^ 
disoloMthembeforTldfed  °^'t  awlemn  dut^g 
those  things,  and  leave  th;  1°  m^"  ?  •'""wledifi  of 
them  known,  appeared  to  m«^?;'<*  ^*''»»t  malioi 

's^-ssfiik.'tt-::::::.':::;^' 


150 


JLWFUL  DISGLOSnilES 


iioipated  with  so  much  anxiety,  I  was  tittin^  alone, 
and  began  to  induli^e  in  reflections  of  this  kind.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  must  be  near  the  close  of  my 
life,  and  I  determined  to  make  a  disclosure  at  oncp. 
I  spoke  to  Mrs.  Ford,  a  woman  whose  character  I 
respected,  a  nurse  in  the  hospital,  number  twenty- 
three.  I  informed  her  that  I  had  no  expectation  Vf 
livinf?  louff,  and  had  some  thin^^s  on  my  mind  which 
I  wished  to  communicate  before  it  should  be  too  late, 
I  added,  that  I  should  prefer  telling  them  to  Mr. 
T— ,  the  chaplain !  of  which  she  approved,  as  she 
considered  it  a  duty  to  do  so,  under  those  circum- 
stances. I  had  no  opportunity,  however,  to  cou« 
Terse  with  Mr.  T.  at  that  time,  and.  probably,  my 
purpose  of  disclosing  the  facts  already  given  in  this 
DooK,  would  never  have  been  executed,  but  for  what 
subsequently  took  place. 

It  was  alarm  which  led  me  to  form  such  a  deter- 
mination ;  and  when  the  period  of  trial  had  been 
safely  passed,  and  I  had  a  prospect  of  recovery,  any- 
thing  appeared  to  me  more  unlikely  than  that  I 
should  make  this  exposure. 

I  was  then  a  Boman  Catholic,  at  least  a  great  part 
of  my  time;  and  my  conduct,  in  a  great  measure, 
was  according  to  the  faith  and  motives  of  a  Boman 
Catholic.  Notwithstanding  what  I  knew  of  the  con- 
duct of  so  many  of  the  priests  and  nuns,  I  thought 
that  it  had  no  effect  on  the  sanctity  of  the  church, 
or  the  authority  or  effects  of  the  acts  performed  bv 
the  former  at  the  mass,  confession,  &c.  I  had  such 
a  regard  for  my  vows  as  a  nun,  that  I  considered  my 
band  as  well  as  my  heart  irrevocably  given  to  Jesus 
Christ,  and  could  never  have  allowed  any  person  to 
take  it.  Indeed,  to  this  dav,  I  feel  an  instinctive 
aversion  to  offering  my  band,  or  taking  the  hand  of 
another  person,  f  ven  as  an  expression  of  friendship. 

I  also  thought  that  I  might  toon  return  to  the 
Catholics,  although  fear  and  disgust  held  me  back. 
I  had  now  that  infant  to  think  for,  whose  life  I  had 


^^mm 


«MPi" 


■  -1 -.1 ^t.J^BI 


apnaM 


07  MABU  MOKK. 


151 


happily  sayed  by  my  timelv  escape  from  fhe  Naii« 
nery  ;  what  iti  fate  mi^ht  be,  in  case  it  should  eyer 
fall  into  the  power  of  the  priests,  I  could  not  tell. 

I  had,  hoviwver,  reason  for  alarm.  Would  a  child| 
destiued  to  destruction,  like  the  infants  I  had  seen 
baptized  and  smothered,  be  allowed  to  go  throuf(h 
the  world  unmolested,  a  living  memorial  of  the  truth 
of  crimes  long  practised  in  security,  because  never  ex« 

fosed  P  What  pledges  could  I  get  to  satisfy  me,  that 
,  on  whom  her  dependence  must  be,  would  be  spar« 
ed  by  those  who,  I  had  reason  to  think,  were  wish- 
ing then  to  sacrifice  me  P  How  could  I  trust  the 
helpless  infant  in  hands  which  had  hastened  the 
baptism  of  many  such,  in  order  to  hurry  them  into 
the  secret  pit  in  the  cellar  P  Could  I  suppose  that 
Father  Phelan,  Priest  of  the  Pariah  Church  o/Moiu 
treal^  would  see  his  own  child  growing  up  in  the 
world,  and  feel  willing  to  run  the  risk  of  having  the 
truth  exposed  P  What  could  I  expect,  especially 
from  him,  but  the  utmost  rancour,  and  the  most  de« 
termiued  enmity,  against  the  innocent  child  and  its 
abused  and  defenceless  mother  P 

Tet,  my  mind  would  sometimes  still  indine  to  the 
opposite  direction,  and  indulge  the  thought,  that 
perhaps  the  only  way  to  secure  heaven  to  us  both, 
was  to  throw  ourselves  back  into  the  hands  of  the 
church,  to  be  treated  as  she  pleased. — When,  there- 
fore, the  fear  of  immediate  death  was  removed,  I 
renounced  all  thoughts  of  communicating  the  sub* 
stance  of  the  facts  of  this  volume.  It  happened, 
however,  that  my  danger  was  not  passed.  I  was  soon 
seized  with  very  alarmmg  symptoms ;  then  my  desire 
to  disclose  my  story  revived. 

I  had  before  had  an  opportunity  to  speak  in  pri« 
vate  with  the  chaplain ;  but,  as  it  was  at  a  time  when 
I  supposed  myself  out  of  danger,  I  had  deferred  for 
three  days  my  proposed  oommudlcation,  thinking 
that  I  might  yet  avoid  it  altogether.  When  my 
s>uiptoms,  however,  became  more  alarming,  I  was 


'*W 


Ilia 


A  vnxi  msoKOiuxis 


fuiziont  for  Saturday  to  aniTe^  the  day  whidi  I  had 
appointed ;  and  when  I  had  not  the  opportunity,  on 
thai  day*  which  I  deeired,  I  thoni^ht  it  might  be  too 
late,  1  did  not  see  him  till  Mondiay,  wjien  my  proa^ 
pects  of  Buryiving  were  very  gloomy,  and  I  then  in* 
formed  him  that  I  wished  to  communicate  to  him  a 
few  secrets,  which  were  likely  otherwise  to  die  with 
me,  I  then  told  him,  that  while  a  nun,  in  the  Oon* 
Tent  of  Montreal,  I  had  witnessed  the  murder  of  a 
nun,  called  Saint  Frances,  and  of  at  least  one  of  the 
infants  which  I  have  spoken  of  in  this  book.  I  add- 
ed some  few  circumstances,  and  I  believe  disclosed, 
in  general  terms,  some  of  the  crimes  I  knew  of  in 
that  Nnnnery, 

My  anticipations  of  death  proYod  to  be  nnfound* 
ed :  for  my  health  afterwards  improved,  and  had  I 
sot  made  the  confessions  on  that  occasion,  it  is  very 
possible  I  might  never  have  made  them.  I,  however, 
afterwards^  felt  more  willing  to  listen  to  instruction, 
and  experienced  friendly  attentions  from  some  of 
the  benevolent  persons  around  me,  who,  taking  an 
interest  in  me  on  account  of  my  darkened  under- 
standing, furnished  me  with  the  Bible,  and  were 
ever  ready  to  counsel  me  when  I  desired  it. 

I  soon  began  to  believe  that  God  might  have  in- 
tended that  his  creatures  should  learn  his  will  by 
reading  his  word,  and  taking  upon  them  the  free 
exerdse  of  their  reason,  and  acting  under  responsi- 
bility to  him. 

It  is  difficult  for  one  who  has  never  given  way  to 
such  arguments  and  influences  as  those  to  which  I 
bad  been  exposed,  to  realize  how  bard  it  is  to  think 
aright,  after  thinking  wrong.  The  Scriptures  always 
affect  me  powerfully  when  I  read  ttiem ;  but  I  feel 
that  I  have  but  just  begun  to  learn  the  great  truths, 
in  which  I  ought  to  have  been  early  and  thoroughly 
instructed.  I  realize,  in  some  degree,  how  it  is,  that 
the  Scriptures  render  the  people  of  the  United  States 
•o  atrongly  opposed  to  such  doetiines  aa  axe  taught 


0m*»A^- 


•«MVI 


irmimiwi 


1 

i 


OF  MABIA  XOmL 


153 


ill  fha  Blaek  and  Oongregational  Nunneriaa  of  Hon. 
treal.  The  priests  and  nuns  nsed  often  to  declare, 
that  of  all  heretios,  the  children  from  the  United 
States  were  the  most  difficult  to  becouTerted;  and 
it  was  thoufirht  a  great  triumph  when  one  of  them 
was  brought  over  to  '*  the  true  faith."  The  first  pas- 
sage of  Scripture  that  made  any  serious  impressico 
upon  my  mmd,  was  the  text  on  which  the  chaplain 
preached  on  the  Sabbath  after  my  introduction  to 
the  hoaiOi — ^  Search  the  Scriptures." 


I 


lin- 
by 

tree 
Lsi- 


\ 


IM 


AMIinjL  SUaUBUJUi 


EXTEACTS  PROM  PUBLIC  JOTJENAIS, 


BBLATINQ  TO 


TSCX2  truth:  OB* 

MAEIA  MONrS  DISCLOSURES. 


ThefoUawing  eertificaie  appeared  in  the  Protestant 
vindicator^  in  March,  1836. 

Wb,  thefubsoribers,  have  an  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Maria  Monk,  and  having  cousin ered  the  evidence  of 
cKffereut  kiuds  which  has  been  collected  in  relation 
to  her  case,  have  no  hesitation  in  dedarinf;^  our  be- 
lief in  the  truth  of  the  statements  she  makes  in  her 
book,  recently  published  in  New  Tork,  entitled  *  Aw« 
f  ul  Disclosures/  &c. 

*^  We  at  the  same  time  declare  that  the  assertion, 
orioinally  made  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Newspapers 
of  Boston,  that  the  book  was  copied  from  a  work  en- 
titled *The  Gates  of  Hell  Opened/  is  wholly  desti- 
tute  ef  foundation ;  it  being  eittirely  new,  and  not 
copied  from  anything  whatsoever. 

'*  And  we  further  declare,  that  no  evidence  has 
been  v>roduced  which  discredits  the  statements  of 
Miss  Monk  ;  while,  on  the  contrary,  her  story  has  yet 
received,  and  continues  to  receive,  confirmation  from 
variottn  sources. 

*' During  the  last  week,  two  important  witnesses 
upontaoconsly  appeared,  and  offend  to  give  public 
tettimoBy^in  ner  favour,    l^m  ttiem  the  following 


•  •! '  XT"-*'? 


-nwr 


'■'11"      Jt—l'9_' 


OV  UAMUl  xonx. 


155 


eises 
nblio 

wiug 


dellnaationt  hare  been  reoeiTed.  The  flnl  is  an  att* 
daTit  Kiyea  by  Mr.  William  Miller,  now  a  resident 
of  this  city.  The  second  is  a  statement  reeeifed 
from  a  yuun^  married  woman,  who,  with  her  has* 
baud,  also  resides  here.  In  the  clear  and  repeated 
statements  made  by  these  two  witnesses,  we  place 
entire  reliance ;  who  are  ready  to  furnish  satisfac- 
tion to  any  persons  making  reasonable  enquiries  on 
the  subject. 

*'  W.  0.  Bbownbee,  *'  Amos  Belden, 

**  John  J.  Slocum,  **  Dayid  Wessok, 

•*  Andbbw  Bbuoe,  *  Thoscas  Hooan.** 

**D.  Fanshaw, 

From  the  American  Protestant  Vindicator, 

**It  was  expected  that,  after  Maria  Monk's  disclo- 
sures, an  artful  attempt  would  be  made  to  inTalidate 
her  testimony— which  was  done  secretly  after  her 
escape  from  the  Hotel  Dieu  Nunnery,  bv  so  altering 
the  appearance  of  that  iv  jtitutiou  by  planking,  and 
bricking,  and  stoning,  as  to  deceive  Col.  Stone,  who 
was  then  requested  to  examine  it  for  himself  and  the 
world.      The  Ool.  misrepresented  what  he  saw,  be 
was  deceived  regarding  those  alterations  by  the  in* 
mates,  who  draggled  him,  as  it  were,  by  force  through 
the  building  during  his  examination,  which  was  per- 
formed in  the  amazing  short  space  of  a  few  hours. 
But  time  is  the  grand  nnraveller  of  mysteries.    On 
the  appearance  of  the  book  of  Miss  Monk,  the  hood- 
winked people  of  Montreal  were  so  surprised  and 
stupefied  at  findiui;  that  the  immaculate  parity  of 
the  Hotel  Dieu  had  been  so  dispara«^ed,  that  they 
forgot  to  think  seriously  on  the  subject  -but,  under- 
standing that  the  story  had  gained  almost  reneral 
belief  abroad,  they,  at  last,  were  led  to  con  lecture 
that  perhaps  it  was  partiality  that  prevented  them 
from  believing  it  at  home.  General  attention,  there- 
lorci  iu  Muutrcali  was  directed  towards  that  edifico 


1/^6 


▲WFUL  DXSOLOSXnUII 


—and  those  residing  in  its  immediate  vioinitj  cast  a 
retrospeotiye  f^lanoe  oTer  what  thev  had  seen  trans- 
acted there,  between  the  time  at  which  the  *  Disclo- 
sures' were  published,  and  the  visit  of  Ool.  Stone. 
The  result  of  this  investii^ation  has  been  lately  f^xYen 
on  the  spot  to  the  Bev.  Jas.  P.  Miller,  of  New  York, 
who  Yisited  that  city  for  the  purpose  of  hearing  that 
the  truth  was  ^'radually  coming  to  li^ht.  The  neigh- 
bours informed  Mr.  Miller  that  about  the  time  it  was 
rumoured  that  she  had  exposed  the  institution,  a 
mysterious  pile  of  planks,  twenty-fiye  feet  in  height, 
had  been  placed  mysteriously  in  the  yard,  which 
were  wonderfully  and  gradually  used  in  progressing 
some  improyements  in  the  building— for  they  were 
neither  employed  outside  nor  hauled  away. 

Whateyer  may  be  the  fact  with  regard  to  Maria 
Monk's  alleged  disclosures,  those  of  our  people  who 
haye  read  your  papers,  are  satisfied  in  one  point : 
that  Mr.  Stone's  credibility  as  a  witness  has  been 
successfully  impeached ;  that  his  examination  of  the 
Nunnery,  was  a  mere  sham ;  that  he  was  either  the 
dupe  of  Jesuitical  imposture,  or  that  he  himself  is  a 
fond  impostor ;  that  he  has  been  unwillingly  or  ig- 
norantly  befooled ;  and  unless  he  has  had  a  tangible 
reward,  that  he  has  '  got  his  labour  for  his  pains.' 

**My  wife,  who  spent  her  childhood  in  Montreal, 
says,  that  she  and  her  schoolmates,  when  walking 
the  street  near  the  Nunnery,  often  used  to  wonder 
if  the  famous  subterranean  passaee  was  under  the 
place  where  they  then  stood:  ana  yet,  forsooth,  no 
person  in  Canada  eyer  before  heard  of  it !  What- 
eyer may  be  the  facts  in  relation  to  those  disclo- 
sures, we  needed  not  your  paper  to  satisfy  us  either 
that  Jesuits  must  be  as  holy  as  the  *  Blessed  Virgin 
Mother*  herself,  or  those  conyentides  of  unprotect- 
ed females  are  scenes  of  the  most  damning  character. 
^A  Fbozbsiant.'* 


hi 


OF  MJLnii.  iro!nc. 


167 


kits 
ans- 
lolo- 
;one. 
[iven 
rork, 
that 
Bigli- 
b  was 
on,  a 
jight, 
fhich 

were 

Bfaria 
e  who 
[>oint : 
I  been 
of  the 
er  the 
)lf  is  a 


Irgin 
>tect« 
}ter. 


Frcm  the  Lang  Idand  Star,  qf  FA,  29^. 

^  Since  the  publication  of  our  last  paper,  we  have 
received  a  communication  from  Messrs.  Howe  and 
Bates,  of  New  York,  the  publishers  of  Miss  Monk's 
*  Awful  Disclosures.'  It  appears  that  some  iuflu« 
ence  has  been  at  work  in  that  city,  adyerse  to  the 
free  examination  of  the  case  between  her  and  the 
priests  of  Oanada  ;  for  thus  far  the  newspapers  have 
been  most  entirely  closed  against  everything  in  her 
defence,  whilst  most  of  them  have  published  false 
charges  against  the  book,  some  of  a  prepoi^terons 
nature,  the  contradiction  of  whicL  is  plain  an  i  pal« 
pable. 

*<  Beturning  to  New  York,  she  then  firs^  resolved 
to  publish  her  story,  which  she  ha«  recently  <!one, 
after  several  intelligent  disinterested  i^erson  baa 
satisfied  themselves  by  much  examination  faat  it 
is  true.  ft-> 

When  it  became  known  in  Oanada  that  ^his  was 
her  intention,  six  affidavits  were  published  in  some 
of  the  newspapers,  intended  to  destroy  confidence 
in  her  character  ;  but  these  were  found  vei^y  conU'a- 
dictory  in  several  important  points,  and  in  others  to 
afford  undesigned  confirmation  of  statements  before 
made  by  her. 

'*  On  the  publication  of  her  book,  the  New  York 
Catholic  Dairy,  the  Truth-teller,  the  Green  Banner, 
and  other  papers,  made  virulent  attacks  upon  it, 
and  one  of  them  proposed  that  t  •'^  publishers  should 
be  *  lynched.'  An  anonymous  handbill  was  also 
circulated  in  New  York,  declaring  the  work  a  ma* 
liornant  libel,  got  up  by  Prote^ant  clergymen,  and 
promising  an  ample  ref  a  nation  of  it  in  a  few  days. 
This  were  re-published  in  the  Oatholic  Dairy,  &c.y 
with  the  old  Montr ^  affidavits,  which  latter  were 
distributed  through  New  York  and  Brooklyn ;  and 


158 


AWFUL  DISCtO  TTBSS 


.fe 


K 


on  the  authority  of  tHbse,  several  Protestant  news- 
papers denounced  the  work  as  false  and  malioious. 

**  Another  charge,  quite  inconsistent  with  the  rest, 
was  also  made,  not  only  by  the  leadinfi^  Boman  Ca- 
tholic papers,  but  by  several  others  at  second  hand 
—viz.,  that  it  was  a  mere  copy  of  an  old  European 
work.  This  had  been  promptly  denied  by  the  pub« 
lisbers,  with  the  offer  of  100  dollars  reward  for  any 
book  at  all  resembling  it, 

**  Tet  such  is  the  resolution  of  some,  and  the  un- 
belief of  others,  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  pub- 
lishers to  obtain  insertion  for  the  replies  in  the  New 
York  papers  generally,  and  thev  have  been  unsuc- 
cessful in  an  attempt  at  Philadelphia. 

**  This  is  the  ground  on  which  the  following  ar- 
ticle has  been  offered  to  us,  for  publication  in  the 
Star.  It  was  offered  to  Mr.  Schneller,  a  Boman 
Priest,  and  Editor  of  the  Catholic  Dairy,  for  inser- 
tion in  his  paper  of  Saturday  before  last,  but  re- 
fused, although  written  expressly  as  an  answer  to 
the  affidavits  and  charges  his  previous  number  had 
contained.  This  article  hns  also  been  refused  inser- 
tion in  a  Philadelphia  daily  paper,  after  it  had  been 
satisfactorily  ascertained  that  there  was  no  hope  of 
gaining  admission  for  it  into  any  of  the  New  York 
papers. 

**  It  should  be  stated,  in  addition,  that  the  author- 
e&A  of  the  book,  Maria  Monk,  is  in  New  York,  and! 
stands  ready  to  answer  any  questions,  and  sub* 
niit  to  any  enquiries  put  in  a  proper  manner,  and 
desires  nothing  so  strongly  as  an  opportunity  tol 

Erove  before  a  court  the  truth  of  her  story.  She] 
as  already  found  several  persons  of  respectability! 
who  have  confirmed  some  of  the  facts,  important! 
and  likely  to  be  attested  by  ooncurrant  evidence 
and  much  further  testimony  in  her  fayour  may 
••CD  expected  by  the  public 

"  With  these  facts  beifore  them,  intelligent  readei 
will  Judge  lor  themielfas.     She  Mka  for  iuTesti 


OT  KAMA  SrONS. 


150 


tion,  while  her  oppoueuts  deny  her  every  opportu- 
nity to  meet  the  charges  made  af^ain^t  her.  Mr. 
Schneller,  after  ezpressiiig  a  wish  to  see  her,  to  the 

Eablishers,  refused  to  meet  her  auy where,  oiilesa  ia 
is  owa  house ;  while  Mr.  Quarter,  another  Roman 
Catholio  priest,  called  to  see  her,  at  ten  o'clock  one 
night,  accompanied  by  another  man,  without  inviiiiC 
their  names,  and  under  the  false  pretence  of  being 
bearers  of  a  letter  from  her  brother  in  Montreal, 


PUBLI8HJW  FOR  THM  BOOKSELLERS. 


M 


>Vv 


MYSTERIES  OP  A  CONVENT. 

I 


% 


Biiteied  aocordingto  tbe  Aot  of  Oongresfly in  the 

Tear  1854,  by 

T.  B.  PETERSON, 

In  the  Office  of  the  d  ^rk  of  the  Diatriot  Oourt  of 

the  United  States,  in  and  for  the  Eastern 

Diatriot  of  Pennsylvania. 


tefii.f . 


^?M:-Jk£Mk>^L:^^dt2 


'a^»ii»fl»3^WiiSifyy--^W^itW!lipB-^^^^ 


THE 


MYSTERIES  OF  A  CONVENT. 


In  the 


BY 


A  NOTED  METHODIST  FBEACHEB. 


•< 


PHILADELPHIA: 

T.  B.  FXXBB8OV1  lOly  OB^SnnTT 


w 


] 


I* . 


U 

oft] 
one 
teen 
pent 
sure 
of  til 

ed  \ 
Bubj 
try, 
hen 
ofei 
oftl 
wba 
thoi 
wort 
shot] 
in  e 
Sun, 


LITERARY  NOTJCK 


"This  book  will  be  eagerly  sougbt  for  and  appreeUted  bf 
•11  those  sincerely  and  conscientiously  opposed  to  the  worft 
of  tyrannies— tA«  tyranny  of  religion.  It  is  unquestionably 
one  of  the  best  works  that  has  been  issued  durin?  the  nine> 
teenth  century.  Mr.  Peterson  has  been  at  considerable  «x- 
pense  in  getting  up  this  interesting  book;  and  we  feel  as- 
sured that  it  will  have  a  rapid  sale,  as  there  are  few  personf 
of  the  present  day,  bat  who  wish  to  be  madefuUy  acquaint" 
ed  with  this  important  subject.  The  author  grapplet  hit 
subject  with  a  keen,  determined  intellect,  and  all  the  bigo* 
try,  fEinaticism,  practises,  and  doings  in  a  Conventi  art 
here  exposed  to  the  light  of  the  noon-day  tun.  It  Is  a  work 
of  especial  interest  at  the  present  time.  The  author  ia  ont 
of  the  most  celebrated  Methodist  preachers  now  livingy  and 
what  he  eiposes  and  narrates  he  does  from  the  heart.  AU 
diould  read  and  stnd^  it.  It  is  a  rich,  highly  interettinf 
work,  and  the  low  puce  at  which  it  is  published,  will,  aa  if 
shoold,  bring  it  within  the  reach  of  tne  tens  of  thouaandt 
in  every  section  of  our  country  that  should  read  it.**— 2Viis 
8uiK 


<A*W, 


R 


U 


&*, 


Contents. 


t. 


mam 


OHAPTEB  Z. 

IntiqiM  maailoii— Funilj  Portraiti— OmuiI  <f  9L 
Anbyn— Father  and  cUvghter  — m^m..— •••mmm..^ 

OHAPTEB  n. 

KyantofintdiAdowed— A  daaghter*!  anzietj— A  letat 
of  t^nW'-Tlie  viotim's  doom— The  daughter'elMv* 


^    10 


••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••■••••••••••••a 

OHAPTBB  ni. 
Betondiig  oonseioaBness— Louise   the   Oiphaa-^A 
friend  in  need— Oenoine  BympathT—Dlsinterei^ 
ed  generoaitj ••    14 

OHAPTEB  nr. 

Kind-hearted  banker— Noble  reaolye— Agenerona  pfo^ 
po«al— Obligation  returned— A  thankftillMaEl-*   It 

OHAPTEB  v. 

A  oomlMable  retreat— Betribatton— The  peasadl 
girl'a  Tictim— Blood  for  blood— The  chieft  reo8i?» 
their  merited  doom— The  orphan's  euaa.. 


OHAPTEB  TI. 

Loidie  longa  to  leate  Iteioe— Looking  towaida  An»- 
liea^-OfltfatotakePiemandlUiia  wtOkkn-^ 

Loffiof  oQePa  oimgoimti7--IMaaPiivail»--A»» 


41 


.,    -.      :i 


m 


00VTSNT8. 


PlCtt 
ifTtl  In  the  new  Bepubllo— Ohorch  of  the  Jeeniti 
— Interfiew  with  lather  Jabert S5 

OHAFTEB  VII. 

LoqIm's  refleotlonf  on  the  interview— Iti  effeot  on 
Iioniie— Anxiety  of  Pierre  and  Marie— The  heart'i 
ooneolationa— The  wily  Jeenit 

OHAPTEB  VUI. 

TheloTer*!  dream— The  oonfeesional—Iti  effects  on 
Louie«— Her  determiDation  to  enter  the  Oon?ent 
of  Bt.  Mary 'i— Sorrow  other  friends— Enters  the 
Oonyent,  under  the  appellation  of  Sister  Frances 
-^Father  Jnbert's  wily  schemes 

OHAPTEB  IX. 

BoBonn  la  prospect— Ecstacy  of  Father  Jubert— 
PoweTy  apostrophe  to— The  compact  not  to  be 
forgotten- Arrival  of  the  Legate— His  treatment 
•-Approaching  ceremony— High  Mass  celebrated 
— Oonaistorial  Hall,  its  splendid  ftimiture  and  fit- 
ting*—Procession  of  priests— The  ceremony  of 
Installation— Awftd  oath— The  cup  of  bloods 
The  Bible  cursed  and  burned— Fierce  exultation 
of  the  priests— The  American  flag  of  liberty  tram* 
pled  under  foot,  and  torn  in  pieces— Father  Ju^ 
bert  made  Head  of  the  Order  of  St.  Ignatius  Lo- 
jobty  for  the  United  States  of  America— Homage 
■nd  obeisanoe  of  the  priests— Oath  of  allegiance. 


85 


OHAPTEB  Z. 

flhi  Father  General's  affections  for  Sister  Frances  on 
the  wane— fiemoves  her,  by  instituting  her  to  the 
oOoe  of  Superior  in  the  Oonyent  of  Annunciation 
i— Her  aotive  and  pi^sely  ting  eflbrts  shortly  after 
Msumlng  office— Emily  de  Yere— The  8uperior*s 
oonduot  towards  her ••••••••••••••••Mt.MM.ti   49 


CONTEKTI* 


PAOB 

OHAPTER  ZI. 

The  Father  Genenl'e  Tifilt  to  the  conyent— Hit  Inte- 
rest Ibr  Sister  Theresa— The  deformed  nun— Pro- 
poses a  meeting  at  midnight  with  Sister  Theresa 
^•The  Mother  Superior's  kind  entertainment  of 
the  Father  General  in  the  private  parlour— Her 
chagrin  at  his  abruptly  leaving  her~Sasplclon^ 
Bister  Theresa's  sorrow  and  anxiety  at  receiving 
the  Father's  noto— Her  trepidation  on  meeting 
the  Father  General— He  reassures  her— His  wily 
stiatagems  to  accomplish  his  base  object— A  wolf 
in  sheep's  clothing 49 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Interregnnm— The  family  of  Mr.  Moreton— Dlsent- 
sion  on  the  education  given  in  boarding-schools.    57 

GHAPTEB  XIII, 

Mr.  Moreton  visits  New  Tork— His  conversation  with 
Mr.  Yandusen— Its  effects  upon  Mr.  Moreton— 
Mr.  Yandusen's  letter  to  the  Mother  Superior...    ti 

GHAPTEB  XIV. 

Mr.  Moreton's  sanguine  partiality  to  Catholic  schools 
—Mrs.  Moreton' s  fears  and  doubts— Julia  sent  as 
a  boarder  to  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation- 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  M,  attend  the  first  examination— 
Engaging  manners  of  the  Mother  Superior— Ex- 
tras—The  parents  receive  alarming  intelligence^ 
Distress  and  anxiety— Mr.  Moreton  hastens  to 
snatch  his  child  from  her  impending  doom— Ar- 
rives at  the  Convent,  and  demands  to  see  his  , 
daughter— Falsehood  and  treachery  of  the  Mother 
Superior— Julia  rushes  into  her  father's  arms, 
and  if  borne  by  him  from  the  hated  Convent.. 


>••#•• 


67 


'- 


OOtMTJUinL 


OHAPTER  XV. 


VAOB 


Julia's  nan»tlT6— Specious  and  artM  eondnot  of  the 
Mother  Superior— How  the  letter  was  written . .    67 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Sifter  Theresa,  her  sufferings  and  death— Her  dying 
warning  to  Julia— Its  effect  upon  Julia— The  Mo- 
ther Superior's  rage  in  the  chamber  of  death — 
The  Father  General's  base  scheme  to  enrich  the 
order— The  Mother  Superior  in  a  dilemma    ....    81 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Mother  Superior  outwitted— Cursing  and  pray* 
ing— Hasty  summons  to  the  Father  General— In- 
sulting the  dead— Jesuitical  conduct  89 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  Father  General  obeys  the  summons  in  haste- 
Meeting  between  him  and  the  Mother  Superior— 
A  vile  plot  conducted  between  them— The  Mo- 
ther Superior  in  a  new  character— The  Father 
General  turned  grave-digger— Revolting  manner 
of  burying  the  dead  03 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Dnplicity- The  plot  thickens— Reward  offered  for 
the  missing  nun— A  substitute  found— A  third 

party  in  the  plot— Threatened  tumult    08 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  pretended  nun  undergoes  a  Judicial  examination 
Jesuitical  manoeuvring— An  apt  pupil— The  in- 
quiry terminates  in  &vour  of  the  supposed  nun.  104 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
The  Father  GeiMral's  residence— The  library— Splen- 
did ftunitnre  and  fittings  of  the  establishment^ 


OOWKUITI* 


tteIMlMrQ«iimrt  latter  to  Um  ICoUitr  Siipt- 
lio^-Plot  upon  plot M  iOf 

OHAPTEB  ZXII. 

Tht  Vkthar  Otneral't  anxiety— Ilia  interriew  toA 
tnmaaotion  with  the  falao  Bmille  de  Ver»— Tho 
lnbHcated  letter— The  Italian  leoretary— Plot  and 
eonnter-plot— Fietro  and  Alioe^The  intimaoy 
•ommenoed « Ul 

OHAPTEB  XXIII. 

▲lioe*f  parenta— Pi'iced  in  a  oonvent  at  an  early  ago 
—New  iieelingi  prodnoed  by  new  scenes— ETening 
ramblee— Mutual  attachment— The  dawning  of 
light— Its  effect  upon  Pietro  and  Alioe— Their 
oonvenation  and  resolution llf 

OHAPTEB  XXiy. 

Alice's  ignorance  of  the  true  nature  of  the  plot  sho 
was  engaged  in— Her  anxiety  on  that  account— 
Her  determination  to  act  right— Arri?al  of  Mr. 
*  Prentiss— Alice's  perturbation  and  alarm  in  con* 
sequence -Her  interriew  with  Mr,  Prentiss— 
Alice  divulges  the  particulars  to  Mr.  Prentiss— i 
His  astonishment  at  the  recital- His  determina- 
tion to  befriend  Alioe— Escape  of  Pietro  and  Alioe  VH 

OHAPTEB  XXV. 

Dcf^potie  rule  of  the  Mother  Superior— A  reTolntfon 
in  the  conTcnt— The  insurrection  quelled  by  tho 
Father  Oeoeral — Alarming  intelligence,  on  his  re- 
tu  n  to  New  York— His  frantio  conduct  in  con- 
sequence  , 13S 

OHAPTEB  XXVI. 
The  fti^itlTCs  arrire  at  Baltimoro— Beside  with  Mr. 
Bamnm— A  private  wedding -PxDceed  in  a  vessel 


»un 

foot  Vew  Orletns^PleamrM  of  a  laa  Toyage— 
▲Urm  at  the  appearance  of  a  luppoaed  pirate-- 
—Preparation  for  action--OroundleM  alarm— Ai^ 
liTalat  New  Orleanf— Piety  and  prosperity  of 
Pletro  and  Alice •....••.••••••#•••• 


OHAPTEBZZVn. 

The  Father  Oeneral's  interview  with  Mr.  Wilmoi^ 
An  angry  diiputation— Orimination  and  re-crim- 
ination—The  arch-plotter  tows  vengeance  againat 
his  tool— Proceeds  to  put  his  threat  in  execntion 
—Interview  with  Mr.  Ketchum— The  Father 
General's  orders  to  him— Scouts  sent  in  all  direo- 
tions,  in  search  of  the  fugitives— All  search  in 
Tain— Mr.  Wilmotand  his  fiimily  ruined,  and 
turned  out  in  the  streets— Tidings  of  the  lost  Ai« 
gitiyeii  fromFather  Beaupres I4ft 

OHAPTEB  XXVIII. 

Growing  aboie  of  power  by  the  Mother  Superior— 
The  Father  General  resolves  to  remove  her  by  a 
violent  death— The  Mother  Superior  determines 
on  a  similar  &te  for  him— Double-dealing  of  Sis- 
ter ICartina— By  her  exaggerated  reports  of  the 
Father  General's  intrigues  with  the  nuns,  the  Mo- 
ther Superior  wrought  up  to  a  state  of  firenzy^ 
Fiendish  exultation  of  Martina  at  the  success  of 
her  scheme— The  instruments  of  death— Soliloquy 
and  prayer  of  the  Mother  Superior — Change  in 
herdeportment  149 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  FSther  General's  visit  to  the  convent— Hit  conr- 
teouiand  aibble  reception— The  Mother  Supe- 
rior suddenly  changes  her  demeanour,  and  ao* 
eiiaes  him  of  inconstancy— He  solemnly  denies 


^  / 


OOHTEMTt* 


xiU 


PAOB 


the  Moasatton— She  reiterates  the  charge,  and 
queeta  him  to  swear,  bf  the  Tirgin,  that  it  ii 
flOae,  ere  aho  will  belieye  him— She  stabs  him, 
while  taking  the  oath— Panlina,  another  yictim 
to  her  guilty  passion,  stabbed  by  the  Mother  Su- 
perioTy  in  the  arbonr— Destroys  herself  by  poison  154 

CHAPTER  XXZ, 

Alarm  and  oonstematlon  in  the  oonyent— Disooyery 
of  the  dead  bodies— The  bodies  of  the  Mother  Su- 
perior and  Sister  Paulina  laid  in  the  same  graye 
—All  eflbrti  to  elucidate  the  mystery  in  yain— 
The  offices  of  Father  General  and  Mother  Supe- 
rior filled  up— Partial  reyelations  and  suspicions 
of  the  dying  Sister  Martina— Olosing  remarks IttS 

CONCLUSION. 

Summary— Lessons  to  be  gained  from  a  right  use  of 
the  narratiye— The  duty  of  parents— Cautions  to 
young  persons— Connection  between  Popery  and 
infidelity— Sure  downfall  of  error  and  superstition 
—Earnest  entreaty  to  embrace  the  truth Itf 


< 


!i!v 


t 


It: 


it  :- 


THE 


MYSTERIES  OF  A  CONVERT. 


OHAFTEBL 

Aniiqae  masulon— FamHy  portraits— Count  of  St*  Aabyn 

—Father  and  daughter. 

T0WIBD8  the  olose  of  the  lait  oentory,  there  etood, 
within  a  few  miles  of  Paris,  an  andent,  mos«^'>^^wn 
chateau,  embosomed  in  oaks,  whose  cfnarled  Jiimbs, 
levered  with  mistletoe,  gave  eyidenoe  of  their  anti- 
quity, and  showed  that  they  had  battled  against 
many  a  fierce  onset  of  the  elements. 

This  yenerable  pile,  with  the  ample  and  handsome 
demesne  in  whose  midst  it  stood,  was  the  family  seat 
of  the  Oounts  of  St.  Aubyn,  through  whose  long  line 
of  succession  it  had  descended  from  sire  to  son,  in 
spite  of  political  oouTulsions  which  bad  shaken  the 
State  to  its  very  foundations.  Everything  about  the 
building  wore  the  impress  of  time.  The  furniture, 
throughout  its  almost  numberless  rooms,  was  of  the 
most  antique  fashion,  and  had  been  preserved  with 
great  care,  indeed  with  a  sort  of  superstitious  rever- 
ence. Over  the  spacious  fire-plaoe  in  the  great  dic- 
ing ball,  which  had  so  often  rung  with  the  voice  of 
revelry,  was  suspended  the  onoe  brilliantlv  illumin- 
ated, but  now  discoloured,  pedigree  of  rae  family ; 
while  upon  the  oaken  paLdlled  walla  were  hung  suits 
of  mail,  and  implements  of  war  and  of  the  ohasei 
many  of  which  were  of  the  most  primitive  and  ouri* 
ous  construction.  In  various  parts  of  the  building 
were  to  be  found  portraits  of  those  members  el  the 
family  who  had  Men  remarkable  lor  aobieremeiita 

7 


1CTSTBBZE8  07  A  coimsirr. 


ttii  1  * 

m  ^ 

in  ! 

j 


I  lit 


on  the  battle  field,  or  in  the  tournaiDent ;  for  learn- 
ing,  for  statesmanship,  or  for  personal  beauty :  the 
mailed  warrior,  the  tilting  kni(i;ht,  the  grave  conn- 
eillor  of  state,  the  robed  priest,  and  the  lovely  belle 
of  her  day.  In  the  chapel,  the  floors  and  walls  were 
covered  with  marble  tablets  and  monuments,  whose 
bass-reliefs  and  inscriptions  declared  the  honours  of 
the  race  in  bygone  days  ;  while  in  the  library  was 
carefully  preserved  an  ancient  volume  of  vellum, 
heavily  bound,  and  clasped  with  brass,  upon  whose 
broad  pages  the  chaplains  of  the  family  had  been 
wont  to  record  the  history  of  the  succescive  counts. 
An  old  oaken  chest,  which  stood  in  one  corner  of  this 
room,  was  filled  with  musty  rolls  and  moth-eaten 
parchments,  that  told  many  a  curious  tale,  and  con- 
tained the  evidence  of  many  a  dark  transaction. 

Charles,  the  Count  of  St.  Aubyn,  at  the  penod 
when  our  story  opens,  had  distinguished  himself  in 
the  wars  of  France,  and  had  fought  many  a  well- 
contested  battle ;  but  having,  in  the  last  of  theso, 
received  a  dangerous  wound  which  wholly  incapaci- 
tated  him  for  the  further  service  of  his  country,  in 
the  army,  he  had  retired  to  his  patrimonial  residence, 
where  he  spent  much  of  his  time  in  superintending 
the  education  of  his  only  daughter,  Louise,  a  beauti- 
ful girl,  now  in  her  eighteenth  year ;  his  remaining 
leisure  being  devoted  to  the  management  of  his  es- 
tate, and  to  court  intrigue. 

Naturally  of  a  cold,  haughty,  and  tyrannical  dis- 
position, which  his  long  career  as  a  military  leader 
had  by  no  means  abated,  but,  on  the  contrary,  had 
greatly  aggravated ;  excessively  vain  of  his  ances^ 
try  ;  impatient  of  all  contradiction,  and  ambitious  of 
power  and  preferment ;  Count  St.  Aubyn  was  but 
ill  prepared  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  task  which 
bad  been  early  devolved  upon  him  by  the  death  of 
the  countess,  sr>on  after  giving  birth  to  Louise;  and 
this  task  was  rendered  the  more  diflicuU  by  her  in* 
hecitance  of  her  father'!  traits  of  character ;  and  by 


i 

m 


ICTSIFiSBXBS  OV  k  CfOKTBHT. 


9 


the  fact  that,  while  absent  from  home  in  the  serrioe 
of  his  conntry^  he  had  confided  his  daughter  to  the 
care  of  a  maiden  aunt,  who  was  too  indolent  to  take 
any  interest  in  what  so  nearly  concerned  her  niece, 
and  to  the  chaplain  of  the  family—a  Boman  Catholic 
priest— who  thought  that  any  knowledge  beyond  that 
of  the  breyiary  was  wholly  useless  for  a  young  and 
beautiful  ffirl,  sole  heiress  to  a  noble  name  and 
priucely  estate,  PossesHin^,  however,  an  iDquiritiff 
mind  and  great  natural  talents,  Louise  spent  muofi 
of  her  time,  from  the  age  of  twelve  years,  in  her  fa- 
ther's library  ;  reading  such  books  as  suited  her 
fancy,  and  especially  delighting  in  the  perusal  of  the 
volume  of  vellum  which  contained  the  history  of  her 
ancestors.  Finding,  too,  the  key  which  unlocked  tho 
old  oaken  chest,  she  eagerly  pored  over  the  contents 
of  its  time-rusted  parchments.  At  other  times,  she 
would  ramble  over  the  gloomy  pile,  passing  from 
room  to  room,  spending  hours  in  looking  at  the  fa« 
mily  pictures  which  smiled  or  frowned  upon  her  from 
the  walls,  and  in  ezaniiiiing  the  curiously  wrought 
tapestry  with  which  some  of  the  rooms  were  draped ; 
or,  going  forth  into  the  forest  near  the  chateau,  she 
would  stroll  from  place  to  place,  as  her  fancy  dictate 
edj  or  sit  by  the  side  of  the  rip[>ling  stream,  lost  in 
bright  musings,  engeu<lered  by  the  works  of  fictioa 
sho  had  read.  Companionship  she  had  none,  save 
w  Iton,  after  supper,  she  entered  the  servant's  hall, 
where  she  would  sit  until  midnight,  listening  to  the 
legends  which  were  recited  to  her  by  the  old  retain* 
ers  of  the  family,  who  had  soent  more  than  half  a 
century  in  the  household,  auu  by  those  who  had  ao« 
companied  her  father  to  the  wars.  Then,  retiring 
to  her  room,  with  her  imagination  wrought  up  to  the 
hijihest  pitch,  she  would  lie  awake  for  hours.  Thus 
raised  until  she  had  passed  her  seventeenth  year,  it 
is  not  wonderful  that  when  Count  St.  Aubyn,  hira« 
self,  undertook  to  superintend  the  education  of  hii 
daughter,  he  should  And  her  mind  in  chaotic  eoofOF 
224  M 


«.'.  si 


I*. 


10 


mSTBSXSS  OV  A  OONVKNT. 


BioQ,  and  her  disposition  wilful  and  impatient  of  all 
restraint. 

Fortunately  for  both  of  them,  the  protracted  illnesi 
oonsequeut  upon  the  severe  wound  that  he  had  re« 
oeiTed  in  his  last  battle,  and  durinfi^  which  Louise  had 
nursed  her  father  with  the  greatest  affection  and  ten- 
derness, scarcely  ever  leaving  his  bedside,  had  served 
Seatlj  to  attach  them  to  each  other,  preparatory  to 
ose  collisions  of  temper  which  were  sure  to  be  the 
result  of  the  association,  as  teacher  and  pupil,  of  two 
persons  so  unhappily  constituted  as  Louise  and  the 
Count  In  spite  of  this,  however,  scenes  frequentlv 
occurred  in  the  Library,  during  the  three  years  which 
were  spent  by  them,  m  this  relation,  which  would 
beiggar  discrintion ;  the  father  in  a  storm  of  wrath ; 
Aiid  the  daugnter  alternately  weepiufi^  passionately, 
and  then  turning  upon  her  parent,  with  all  the  fury 
of  an  ungovernable  spirit.  Indomitable  in  his  pur- 
pof ' ,  however,  the  Count  had  at  length  succeeded, 
to  some  extent  at  least,  in  bringing  Louise  into  sub- 
jection  to  his  iron  will,  when  events  occurred  which 
changed  the  whole  tenor  of  her  life,  and  marvellously 
shaped  her  future  destiny.  A  recital  of  these  we 
ihali  defer  to  the  next  chapter* 


• 


CHAPTER  II. 

Bvsnts  forssbadowtd~A  daughter's  anxiety— A  scene  ofte^ 
ror— The  victim's  dooui— The  daughter's  horror. 

CATJlMhad  been  in  operation,  for  years,  tending  to 
Vevolutiou  and  bloodshed  in  France  :— causes  which 
it  is  tbeproTi.ice  ^lot  of  the  writer,  but  of  the  histo- 
rian, to  tract  and  to  record.  The  tremblings  and 
ominous  muttmngs  of  the  glaciers  had  long  been 
felt  and  heard :— good  men,  and  there  were  a  few, 
bad  stood  agliast,  as  the  earth  reeled  beneath  theii 
ieeli  ia  fearful  expectation  ol  sudden  and  dire  oatai* 


2tV8rJUItB8  0#  A  OOJlVEjUl'. 


11 


tiophtt ;  bad  men,  and  their  name  was  leffioo,  had, 
witn  malicious  exultation,  looked  forward  to  mighty 
upheavingt  of  popular  ezoitemeut,  which  shouM 
henefit  them  hr  the  change  they  should  effect,  be 
that  change  what  it  mif^ht,  and  ruin  whom  it  would. 
At  length,  the  mountain  masses  are  loosened ;  the 
avalauche  descends,  crashing,  crushing,  destroying, 
in  its  downward  rush,  life,  honour,  fortune,—- all  that 
it  bed  cost  the  labourers  of  centuries  to  rear :— at  one 
fell  blow,  civil  goyemment,  the  rights  of  man,  reli- 
gion, are  overwhelmed  in  one  undistiuguishable  mass 
of  utter  ruin ;  while  anarchy,  cruelty,  and  impiety, 
sit  enthroned  in  gloomj  grandeur  and  the  wide- 
spread desolation,  wearing  a  triple  crown,  baptised 
in  the  blood  of  more  than  a  million  of  victims ;— fit 
emblem  of  that  worn  by  **  Babylon  the  great,  the  Mo* 
iher  o/harlotSy  and  alnminatians  qfthe  earth  /*  which 
would  exalt  thus  to  sit  gloating  upon  the  ruiiis,  not 
of  one  province  or  state  only  but  of  all  the  world ; 
while  the  waitings,  not  of  infidel  France  aloue.  but 
of  Proteatantism  every  where,  should  come  welling 
up  as  sweetest  melody  in  her  ears. 

Count  St.  Aubyn.— Count  no  longer,  for  titles  of 
honour  had  been  abolished, — was  not  one  of  those 
who  could  be  inert  or  inactive  at  such  a  crisis  as  this ; 
and  soon  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to  the  fury  of 
the  **  Infernal  Triumvirate,*  *  He  had,  of  late,  been 
frequently  absent  from  home,  during  the  day,  but 
bad  always  returned,  at  night,  for  the  protection  of 
his  daughter.  At  length,  however,  he  came  not,  as 
usual;  and  Louise  felt  greatly  alarmed,  for  she  was 
apprised  of  passing  events,  as  they  occurred  from  day 
to  day.  She  went  to  the  great  hall  door,  and,  look- 
ing out  upon  the  darkness,  waited  long  and  anxious- 
ly for  her  father's  return  but  he  came  not.  She  sent 
messengers  to  the  city,  that  she  might,  if  possible, 
learn  what  had  befallen  him.  The  old  clock,  which 
stood  in  the  hall,  and  T^hose  tickings  seemed  to  vi- 
brate through  her  every  aerTCi  at  last  told  the  hem 


m 

?)m 

^1 

.*-  '>j 

E'J^Si"3i 

V.-ij 

l<  'It  '  ''^  ^w 

m 

ra 

*'ii 

fl 

H&'liK 

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i 

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♦  18 

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wm 

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^  '  ■  ''  M 

';•>•> 

th  % 

•-'  'cfi 

'..  \ ' ' 

■r^ 

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'  1 

V    ..       .8«< 

-  ;"•• 

'    '"'  '^1 

.  f  * 

■.\ 

'  ■  j 

#  m 

m 

^ 


n 


H^rstBBIZS  Ol^  A  OOVTXXT* 


i 

il     ii 


of  midnight  Still  he  oame  not,  nor  had  her  messen 
gers  returned.  She  knew  not  what  to  do.  nor  where 
to  send ;  she  feared  the  worat^  vet  hoped  hourly  for 
her  father's  arriyal.  Weaned  and  exhausted  hy 
anxiety,  as  well  as  ohilled  hy  the  damp  night  air,  she 
went  to  her  room,  and  tried  to  compose  herself,  but 
in  yain ;  the  old  clock  oontinned  to  souud  forth, 
from  its  iron  throat,  hour  after  hour,  and  still  her 
fathei, — whom  she  loyed,  in  spito  of  their  outbursts 
of  temper  in  the  past, — her  father  came  not.  Has- 
tily  summoning  her  maid,  she  bade  her  descend  to 
the  servants'  hall,  and  order  the  coachman  to  get 
ready  the  carriage ;  and,  just  as  the  day  broke^  she 
threw  herself  into  it,  and,  saying,  **  To  the  city," 
leaned  heavily  upon  the  cushions,  in  a  perfect  fever 
of  excitement. 

It  was  already  seven  o'clock  when  she  reached  the 
gatos  of  Paris ;  and  here  fresh  difficulties  arose  in 
her  path.  She  was  refused  admittance ;  but,  oppor- 
tunely for  her,  a  friend  of  her  father,  who  had  some 
influence  with  the  guard,  arrived  just  at  the  mo- 
ment, and  succeeded  in  bribing  him  to  let  her  pass; 
the  stipulation  being  matle,  however,  that  the  carri- 
age should  remain  outside  the  barrier,  and  that  she 
should  enter  the  city,  alone  and  on  foot,  so  as  to  at- 
tract no  observation. 

What  a  scene  met  her  gaze,  on  her  entrance  into 
the  thoroughfares  through  which  she  had  repeatedly 
passed  before,  a  light-hearted  maiden,  richly  appa- 
reled, seated  in  the  old  family  coach,  by  the  side  of 
her  father,  the  Count ;  of  whose  dignified  and  com- 
manding appearance  she  was  so  justly  proud.  Now, 
alone,  on  foot,  and,  happily  for  her  own  safety,  but 
indifferently  clad,  with  her  heart  palpitating  under 
the  iufluence  of  fear  and  anxiety,  she  had  to  make 
her  way  through  a  dense  mass  of  human  beiugs, 
heaving  and  rolling  like  the  waves  of  the  ocean, 
when  moved  by  the  storm.  Here  were  men,  drunken 
with  ezoitemeot  and  intoxicated  with  power,  for  the 


l"* 


XTBTEKZSI  OV  ▲  OOAVJUIV* 


IS 


mob  ruled — drunken  men  uttering  the  mott  awful 
blasphemiea,  and  crying,  in  tones  which  called  the 
Tery  soul  within  her,  /*  Blood  !  Blood,  Mw  Blood  f* 
Here  were  woman  with  dishevelled  hair  ;  torn  add 
ragf^ed  dresses,  besmeared  with  blood ;  countenances 
haggard  and  pale  for  want  of  food ;  women  bias* 
pheming,  and  crying,  in  accents  of  despair,  **  Brwd  / 
Bread.  Dovm  with  the  Aristocrats— give Ui breads 
or  yfe  die,**  There  the  infuriated  crowd  was  mak- 
ing a  bonfire  of  the  elegant  but  broken  furniture 
which  had  just  been  taken  from  a  neighbouring 
mansion — that  mansion  in  flames;  while  another 
party  was  dragging  to  the  guillotine  the  late  owner 
of  this  princely  establishment— his  only  crime,  per* 
haps,  his  wealth.  A  few  steps  further  on,  and  she 
beheld  some  unfortunate  being  hanging,  lifenesa, 
from  a  lamp-post;  and  advancing  but  a  short  dis« 
tance  beyond,  she  encounters  a  dead  body,  lying  oa 
the  pavement,  with  its  ghastly,  upturned  features, 
ground  hj  the  heel  of  some  ruffian,  until  they  could 
not  be  distinguished.  Blood,  blood,  blood— every 
where ;  in  the  street ;  on  the  pavement ;  standing  ia 
great  puddles,  running  in  the  gutters,  spattered  upon 
the  walls  in  the  houses,  staining  the  faces  and  gar« 
ments  of  the  populace ;  blood  crying  to  heaven  for 
vengeance  upon  the  regicides,  the  homicides.  O,  it 
was  a  horrible  spectacle— a  sight  to  have  sickened 
her  woman's  heart— a  sight  which  she  never  forgot, 
and  which  mysteriously  affected  her  whole  after  lifOi 
as  it  stood  in  connexion  with  the  event  of  that  mom« 
iug,  which  froze  that  heart  to  stone,  and  for  ever 
dried  up  that  kindly  emotion.  Drawing  her  shawl 
closely  about  her  person,  and  stopping  from  time  to 
time  to  recover  herself,  as  in  the  swayings  to  and 
fro  of  the  maddened  crowd,  she  was  now  hurried  ra« 

Sidly  forward, and  now  almost  hurried  to  theground. 
he  nad  succeeded  in  passing  through  several  streeta 
as  yet  unharmed,  when,  on  suddenly  turning  a  cor- 
ner, she  atood  in  lull  view  of  the  guillotine ;  around 


f. 


i 


,1 


14 


MTSTBRXXB  OF  JL  OOJIVXMT* 


which  WM  irath«r«d  a  motley  mu!tiiude  of  man,  wo- 
mtn,  and  ohildron,  all  Tocifarating  that  terrible  ory 
— **  Blood !  blood  I"  One  glance  sufficed  to  tell  her 
that  fhe  had  found  her  father,  but  under  what  fear, 
fol  drcumttauoes.  There  he  etood  erect  upon  the 
•eaffold,  oattinir  a  look  of  diguified  defiance  upon 
tha  eurginpr  mobf  thireting  for  hie  life.  A  moment 
more,  and  he,  who  had  never  feared  death  upon  the 
battle  field,  calmly  laye  his  head  upon  the  block. 
Spell-bound,  Louiie  sees  the  fatal  knife  deicend  with 
lightning  cpeed,  but  she  seei  no  more :  with  one  wild 
•hriek  of  agouT  she  falli  ewooning  upon  the  hard 
•tonet ;  tha  last  link  seyered  which  bound  her  in 
sympathy  to  her  race. 


^  I 


CHATTEB  ni. 

Retaraing  consciousness— Louise  the  orphan— A  friend  in 
need— Genuine  sympathy— Disinterested  generosity. 

Ov  recoTering  from  tha  state  of  insensibility  into 
which  she  had  been  thrown  by  the  dreadful  spec* 
tada  that  she  had  witnessed,  she  was  surprised  to 
find  herself  on  a  low  pallet,  in  a  small  and  ill-fur* 
lil^had  ap&rtment,  with  a  female  bending  oyer  her, 
whom  she  did  not  recollect  to  haTc  seen  before,  bu- 
sily engaged  in  chafing  her  temples. 

*•  Where  am  I P"  cried  the  unhappy  girl.  "0, 
where  am  I.  and  where  is  my  dear  father  f  I  have 
had  such  a  horrible  dream  !  I  thought  I  saw  my 
fathar  lay  his  heed  upon  tho  blood?  block— that  I 
saw  his  grey  hairt  floating  on  tha  breese,  and  then 
•*I  saw  that  terrible  knife— but  tell  me,  O,  tell  me.** 
aha  added,  eagerly  grasping  tha  arm  of  tha  stranger, 
**  haTC  I  been  dreaming,  or  is  it,  indeed,  a  fearful 
reality  f  Bneak,  I  entreat  you,  for  my  poor  head 
reels  eo,  that  I  cannot  remember  any  thing." 

Tha  good  woman  sought  to  soothe  her,  and  to 


mrSTBBDUl  OV  if  OOKVBHT* 


II 


trade  tba  queition ;  tallingr  ^n  how  important  it 
was  for  har  to  be  quiet ;  but  all  her  beneTolent  ef • 
forts  were  in  Tain.  Louise  presaed  the  queatioOi 
until,  finding  it  waa  still  evaded,  ahe  tcreamed  in 
agony— 

**  Then,  indeed,  it  was  no  dream.  They  hare  mur- 
dered mj  poor  father.  Take,  0  take  me  to  him!"  and 
again  fell  oack  exhausted  and  faint  upon  the  couch. 

Her  kiud  hostess  again  succeeded  in  restoring  her 
to  oonsciousnass ;  and  then,  in  spite  of  all  entreatiea. 
refused  to  answer  any  questiona,  until  tha  ooula 
hare  tried  to  sleep. 

Louiscs  fully  aware  of  her  loss,  and  that  she  waa 
truly  an  orphan,  for  her  father  had  been  cruellv  mur- 
dered before  her  eyes ;  her  mother  had  died  in  gir- 
ing  her  birth ;  aud  she  ha^^  not  a  blood  relatiTe  in 
all  France ;  wrung  her  ha  iS  in  ailent  agony,  and 
tossed  from  side  to  side  upon  the  bed,  until  at  length 
wearied  nature  yielded  to  the  soft  impulse  of  sleep : 
and  she  lay,  for  four  or  five  hours,  in  unoonacioua* 
ness  of  the  sorrows  which  had  settled  down  upon 
her  ynung  spirit,  like  a  pall  of  darkness. 

W1  ile  she  thus  sleeps,  it  may  be  as  well  to  inform 
the  reader,  that,  wheu  Louise  uttered  the  cry  of 
horror,  and  swooned  in  the  street,  on  seeing  her  fa- 
ther guillotined,  there  stood  not  far  from  her  in  the 
crowd,  an  old  soldier,  in  the  dress  of  a  labourer, 
who,  attracted  by  her  scream,  and  looking  upon  her 
face,  discovered  in  her  the  daughter  of  his  old  gen- 
eral, the  Count  St.  Aubyn,  whose  blood  was,  at  that 
momefit,  streaming  from  the  neighbouring  scaffold. 
Hastily  seizing  the  poor  girl,  as  she  laj  upon  the 
pavement,  her  dress  stained  with  the  crimson  fiuid, 
which  stood  in  puddles  all  about  her,  he  raised  her 
in  his  arms,  while  the  rushing  crowd  seemed  ready 
to  trample  them  both  beneath  their  impatient  feet; 
and,  forcing  a  passage,  with  his  brawny  shoulder, 
through  the  heaving  masses  of  human  beinga,  who 
appeared  to  be  demona  incarnate  keeping  their  ia« 


y. 


V. 


:''i  ^-i 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

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(716)  •72-4503 


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16 


UT8ISBIE6  OF  A  OONTBNV. 


f  eraal  holiday  on  the  green  earth»  which  hluBhed  iu 
blood,  he  made  his  way  as  best  he  might,  until,  turn- 
ing into  a  by-street  which  was  less  throoged  than 
that  through  which  he  had  passed,  he  presently 
reached  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  and  arrived  at  his 
own  humble  dwelling.  Here  depositing  his  uncon- 
scious burthen  upon  the  bed,  and  bidding  his  wife 
take  care  of  the  strauger,  until  his  return,  he  went 
forth,  and,  going  to  a  restaurant,  bought  a  loaf  of 
bread  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  with  which  he  hastened 
home  ;  the  shouts  of  the  maddened  multitude,  from 
a  distauce,  even  now  and  then  falling  upon  his  ear, 
as  victim  after  victim  sank  beneath  the  stroke  of  the 
guillotine.  Accustomed  as  he  had  been  to  the  min- 
gled^sries  of  the  battle-field,  and  to  scenes  of  carnage, 
there  was  something  inexpressibly  dreadful  to  him 
in  Uiese  fiendish  shouts  of  oitiaens  imbruing  their 
hands  in  each  other's  blood,  and  in  the  wild  excite- 
ment of  neighbours  fighting  against  their  neigh- 
bours, in  mortal  strife  and  deadly  hatred. 

On  re-entering  his  dwelling,  he  found  Louise 
sleeping  disturbedly,  and,  seating  himself  by  the  side 
of  his  wife,  proceeded  to  relate  to  her  the  events  of 
the  morning,  and  to  inform  her  who  their  guest  was. 

Presentl;^  Louise  awoke,  and,  heaving  a  deep  sigh, 
oast  a  hurried  glance  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
strangers  who  sat  near  her  bedside,  as  if  to  inquire 
where  she  was,  and  who  they  were. 

With  a  kindness  and  consideration  that  would 
have  done  honour  to  those  who  make  greater  pre- 
tensions to  refinement  than  this  humble  couple,  Ma- 
rie^-forthis  was  the  good  woman's  name— approach- 
ed Louise,  and,  placing  her  hand  affectionately  upon 
her  forehead,  from  which, -as  well  as  from  her  hair 
and  dress,  all  stains  had  been  carefully  removed 
whfle  the  had  been  sleeping,  pressed  her  to  take 
Bome  nojorishment,  and  plac^  before  her  the  bread 
and  wine  which  the  old  soldier  has  brought  home, 
lioitite  supoecde^  iu  taking  ^^Ul^e  o|  both|  and  then^ 


■:V!^ 


KYSTElbZES  OS*  A  OONYBNT. 


17 


Ihankihg  ber  kind  but  unknown  friendt,  begged 
they  would  satisfy  the  enquiries  of  her  mind. 

Pierre  Loubat — her  generous  preserver—then  pro- 
ceeded to  relate  what  had  occurred  during  the  in- 
terval of  her  uncouficiousness,  and  assured  her  that, 
as  long  as  she  desired  it,  his  house,  humble  as  it 
was,  should  be  her  home  ;  adding  that  her  father, 
under  whom  he  had  served  in  the  army,  had  saved 
his  life  on  the  battle-field ;  and  that,  while  he  had 
an  arm  to  raise,  it  should  be  outstretched  for  her 
protection. 

'*  Thanks,  most  kind  friends,"  replied  Louise, 
who,  while  listening  to  the  good  Pierre,  had  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands ;  the  heaving  of  her  bosom, 
and  the  tears  as  they  fell  upon  her  dress,  mean- 
while  evincing  her  deep  emotion ;  "  a  poor  orphan, 
for  truly  such  I  am,  cannot  reward  you,  for  your 
benevolence  to  her,  but  may  that  God  who  has  pro« 
mised  to  be  a  father  to  the  f atherlesBi  pour  upon 
you  his  choicest  blessings." 

**  Speak  not  of  reward,"  was  the  prompt  and  feel« 
ing  response  of  the  labourer ;  '*  your  noble  fatiier 
has  laid  me  under  eternal  obligations,  and  it  is  but 
a  poor  return  to  befriend  his  child.  Tou  have  only 
to  command  my  services,  to  secure  them  in  any  way 
you  may  require." 

*'  But  tell  me,"  he  presently  added,  '*  are  there 
none  of  your  relations  in  the  city,  to  whom  you 
would  like  to  send  a  message  by  me  F" 

Louise  shuddered  as  this  question  fell  upon  hes 
ear ;  and,  with  a  fresh  gush  of  tears,  replied,  "Alas, 
I  have  not  a  blood  relative  on  earth.  My  parents 
are  both  dead;  and  I  know  not  another  bemg,  be* 
sides  myself ,  in  whose  Teini  flows  the  blood  olthe 
St.  Aubyns." 

"  But  vour  father  must  hare  had  many  friends  in 
Paris,  who  would  be  glad  to  beof  service  to  you  now/' 

**  Mv  father  had  friends,  while  in  prosperitv;  but 
uow  that  bt  if  dead,  and  by  means  of  tbe  guiUotin^ 


*^i 


1,1  :i 


18 


ICTSTBBZE8  OV  L  OONYBMY* 


who  would  dare  to  befriend  hif  child  f  To  apply  to 
them,  would  be  bat  to  throw  myself  upon  the  same 
block,  and  to  meet  the  same  fate.*' 

**  The  Virgin  forbid  1"  exclaimed  Marie,  deyoutly 
erossing  herself. 

'*  Alas !  poor  young  lady,"  said  Pierre,  in  tones 
of  heartfelt  sympathy,  *'  how  sad  is  your  condition ! 
Be  assured,  at  least,  that  neither  Maria  nor  I  will 
eyer  desert  or  betray  you." 

A  fresh  burst  of  gnef  was  the  only  response  that 
Louise  oould  make. 

At  leneth,  as  though  a  sudden  thought  had  cross- 
ed her  mind  she  asked, 

**  Do  you  know  If.  De  Kontmain,  the  banker  f* 

^  1  know  wh  ere  he  liyes,"  replied  he. 

*'  You  will  greatly  oblige  me  then,"  said  Louise, 
*^ if  you  will  go  to  his  house,  to-morrow  morning; 
and  say  to  him,  that  the  daughter  of  the  Count  St. 
Aubyn  would  be  glad  to  see  him  here,  for  a  few 
minutes,  on  business." 

**  I  will  most  cheerfully,''  quickly  returned  Pierre, 
as  if  it  did  his  noble  heart  good  to  haye  an  opportu- 
nity of  redeeming  his  promise  to  the  poor  orphan. 

Here  Marie  interposed,  and,  insisting  that  Louise 
should  be  left  to  seek  rest,  made  arrangements  for 
the  night,  and,  giving  up  their  own  bed  to  her,  re- 
tired to  a  little  room  adjoining  that  in  which  she 
was  to  sleep. 


CHAPTEBIY. 

Kind-hearted  banker— Noble  resolfe— A  generous  proposal 
—Obligation  returned— A  thankM  heart. 

Oh:  the  following  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  Pierre 
ealled  at  the  residence  of  M.  de  Montmain,  and  hav- 
ing with  some  difficultyi  succeeded  in  seeing  the 


Wm 


mSTBBXBS  OV  JL  OOJHVJfiNT. 


19 


bankeTi  informed  him  that  a  young  lady  wished  to 
see  him,  on  business,  at  No.  68,  Bue  de  Nantes,  and 
that  if  he  would  go  with  him,  or  say  when  it  would 
suit  his  conTenience  to  make  the  call,  he  would  show 
him  the  way. 

**  But  my  good  friend,"  replied  the  banker,  **  yon 
hare  not  told  me  her  name ;  and  these,  you  are 
aware,  are  not  times  for  a  man  in  my  situation  to  be 
calling  on  nameless  damsels,  simply  beoauso  they  ex- 
press a  desire  to  see  him.  Who  is  this  unknown 
lady  r 

**The  daughter  of  General  St.  Aubyn,  whowat 
guillotined  yesterday^"  answered  Pierre,  bowing  re* 
spectf ully,  and  brushing  away  a  tear  from  his  eye. 

**  The  daughter  of  General  St.  Aubyn,  who  waa 
guillotined  yesterday !"  slowly  repeated  M.  de  Moni- 
main,  looking  fixedly  upon  Pierre.  '*  Impossible  1" 
added  he,  **  How  oame  she  there  P" 

**  I  carried  her  there  on  my  shoulder,  from  near 
the  scaffold  on  whioh  she  had  seen  her  noble  father 
prish/'  answered  Pierre ;  *'  and  I  intend  to  protect 
her  with  my  own  life,  now  that  she  is  an  orphan, 
without  home,  and  without  friends.*'  As  he  said 
this,  the  good  soldier  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  and  looked  as  though  he  saw  before  him  some 
one  who  had  intentions  of  injury  towards  his  young 
protegee. 

The  hanker  saw  the  noble  bearing  of  the  yeteranf, 
and,  readiTig  the  devotion  to  her  interests  which  he 
had  unconsciously  betrayed,  took  him  warmly  by 
the  hand,  exdaimmg, 

"Noble-hearted  man,  the  great  God  will  bless  you 
for  this  kindness  to  the  orphan.  Come,  show  the 
way  to  your  house;     I  will  follow  you  anywhere.'* 

Adyanoing  hastily  along  the  less-frequented 
streets;  for  no  one,  who  had  anything  at  stake,  loyed, 
in  those  troublous  days,  to  linger  by  the  way,  or  to 
mingle  with  the  crowd  ;  the  banker  and  ther  old  sol- 
dier soon  reached  the  dwelling  of  the  latter,  and 


1 

r  ' 

1 

t. 

1 

r  ( 

i         *1 

11 

i       1 

! 

It 

;^ 

1 

1 

ft 
■     k 

II 

T  i 

B  H 

J  i 

1  iH 

n      If 

■  9 

1  i 

20 


MYSIBBIBS  OV  A  CX>NVJUIT« 


were  seated  by  the  bed  of  Louise,  who  was  too  feeble 
to  arise. 

M.  de  Montmain  immediately  recognised  the 
daughter  of  the  deceased  Geueral,  whose  features 
she  bore  very  distinctly,  and  whom,  indeed,  he  had 
once  seen  at  her  father's;  and,  addressing  her  in 
tones  full  of  sympathy  and  kindness,  asked  if  he 
could  in  any  way  serve  the  child  of  his  old  friend. 

'*!  am  an  orphan,  and  destitute" — replied  Louise, 
her  utterance  almost  choked  with  emotion — *'  and 
haying  no  home  to  which  I  can  safely  repair,  while 
I  am  willing  to  become  a  burden  to  these  kind-heart* 
ed  people,  who  have  saved  my  life,  and  perhaps,  at 
least,  my  honour,  I  have  sent  for  you,  M.  de  Mont« 
main,  to  know  if  my  father,  at  the  time  of  his  death, 
had  any  money  in  your  hands,  and  if  in  any  way 
I  can,  as  his  sole  survivor,  obtain  that  money,  or  any 
portion  of  it  P' 

'*  There  are  in  my  hands,  belonging  to  the  estate 
of  your  late  father,  18,000  francs;"  replied  the  bank- 
er^-^  but  you  are  aware,  Mademoiselle,  that,  in  times 
like  these,  it  is  impossible  to  foresee  what  may  hap- 
pen, as  well  as  to  take  any  legal  steps,  to  secure  to 
you  the  inheritance  ;  besides,  if  it  were  known  to  the 
government  that  this  amount  were  now  standing  on 
my  books  to  the  credit  of  General  St.  Aubyn,  it 
would  be  seized  upon  immediately,  and  confiscated 
to  the  purposes  of  the  State.  In  this  dilemma,  it  is 
Tery  difficult  to  determine  what  is  best  to  be  done." 

Having  said  this,  the  banker  sat  for  some  time  in 
deep  thought ;  at  length  raising  his  eyes  from  the 
floor,  upon  which  they  had  been  intently  fixed,  he 
said, 

^  I  will  tell  you  what  I  will  do,  Mademoiselle  Lou- 
ise; I  am  under  obligations  to  your  excellent  father 
|or  advances  made  me  in  my  business,  when  I  great- 
ly needed  them.  This  money  is  rightfully  yours,  in- 
dependent of  alllegal  proceedings,  which  are  now 
ol  .course  entirely  out  ox  the  q^uestion :  but  eighteeo 


ItySTEBIES  Of  X  OOlffVSllT. 


21 


thousand  franoi  ii  a  larga  •am  of  money,  and  if  it 
wen  diacoYBrad,  after  I  had  paid  it  oyer  to  you,  that 
it  wai  in  my  possesaion  iabeequent  to  the  General's 
death,  the  doyernmentmight  confiscate  that  amount 
of  my  funds,  and  hold  me  responsible  for  the  entire 
sum.  But  you  need  money,  and  must  haye  it ;  I 
will,  therefore,  in  the  course  of  two  hours  from  this 
time,  pay  you  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  f ranees,  and 
take  your  receipt  for  that  amount,  together  with  a 
bond  of  indemuity  against  any  loss  that  I  may  sus* 
tain  by  the  act,  payable  out  of  the  estate ;  should 
these  troublous  times  e\  /r  pass  away,  and  men's 
right  be  once  more  respecced  and  established.  The 
remainder  to  be  left  in  my  hands,  subject  to  the  es« 
tablishment,  at  some  future  time,  of  your  claims,  as 
heiress  of  your  father." 

**  You  haye  my  thanks,  Ifi..  de  Montmain,  for  this 
generous  offer,"  said  Louise,  in  tones  which  at  once 
evinced  her  surprise  at  the  generosity  of  the  banken 
and  the  relief  which  it  afforded  to  her  mind.  *'  I 
will  most  cheerfully  sign  any  writing  you  may  re- 
quire, and  shall  consider  myself  under  obligations 
to  one  who  has  manifested  so  much  honesty  and  true 
kindness  of  heart." 

The  banker  hastened  home,  and,  returning  in  about 
an  hour,  placed  in  Louise's  hands  the  sum  of  ten 
thousand  francs  in  gold,  taking  the  necessary  papers 
to  secure  himself  from  loss,  as  far,  at  least,  as  possi* 
ble,  under  the  circumstances  ;  and,  assuring  her  of 
his  readiness  at  all  times  to  serye  her,  for  the 
sake  of  her  father,  he  bade  her  adieu,  and  left  the 
house. 

Louise  at  once  called  the  good  Pierre  to  her,  and, 
counting  into  his  hand,  in  spite  of  all  his  remon« 
strances,  fiye  hundred  francs,  desired  him  to  consi- 
der them  as  his  own,  and  to  take  the  remainder  in  to 
his  safe  keeping,  for  her  use.  It  is  utmecesaaiy  to 
add  that  the  trust  was  neyer  betrayed. 


m 
m 

r 


H 


HTSffiUlSfl  09  k  001IVBM9* 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  oomlbitable  retreat— Retribution— The  peasant  glrl'i  Tie* 
tim— Blood  for  blood—The  chiefiB  receive  their  merited 
doom— The  orphan's  curse. 

EiOBTBiSN  months  rolled  away,  and  still  found  Lou. 
ISO  an  inmate  of  the  same  family  whioh  had  first 
afforded  bar  protection.  They  lived  not  in  the  same 
hoose^  however ;  for  she  had  insisted  upon  their 
tiJung  one  somewhat  larger  and  more  comfortable, 
at  her  expense,  while  it  was  at  the  same  time  less 
exposed  to  the  prying  eye  of  curiosity,  and  her 
eafety  was,  therefore,  rendered  the  greater.  The 
good  Marie  ministered  to  all  her  wants,  and  submit- 
ted  to  all  her  caprices ;  while  Pierre  daily  brought 
her  the  news  from  the  city. 

Meanwhile,  the  first  of  that  '*  Infernal  TriumTi- 
rate"  which  had  condemned  her  father  to  death  by 
the  guillotine,  and  had  deluged  France  with  the 
blood  of  her  citizens,  had  fallen  beneath  the  knife  of 
the  peasant  girl,  who  putting  aside  the  weakness 
of  her  sex,  and  clothing  herself  with  enthusiastic  de- 
Totion  to  ike  interests  of  her  native  land,  bared  her 
arm  in  the  name  of  Freedom,  and  inspired  with  a 
heaTen-bom  heroism,  tracked  the  monster  Marat  to 
his  lair,  and  there  stuck  that  knife  to  the  heart  of  him 
whom  she  believed  to  be  the  foremost  in  the  butch* 
erj  of  her  countrymen,  and  whose  death  would,  she 
thought,  give  birth  to  the  liberties  of  France. 

Next  fell  Danton — a  victim  to  the  jealousy  and  to 
the  wiles  of  tiie  unprincipled  Bobespierre— but  while 
ho  met  the  fate  which  his  atrocities  so  richly  merited, 
bis  dying  prediction  was  fully  verified,  for,  in  falling, 
be  dragged  with  him  the  areh*murderer,  Bobes* 

E'erri^  Mm  the  guilty  seat  of  power,  wmdi  they 
id  occupied  together. 


irrsTSBXES  of  a,  oonvzi^. 


23 


On  tbe  moruing  of  the  29th  of  July,  1794,  at  day- 
break, tha  ttreeta  of  Farii  were  filled  to  repletion 
with  maMes  of  human  beings,  all  conyerging  to  one 
point  of  general  attraction  •  The  populace  of  this 
great  and  wicked  city,  their  hands  and  garments 
reeking  with  the  gore  of  the  thousands  whom  they 
had  slain  in  the  feyer  of  popular  excitement,  had 
grown  weary  of  the  sight  of  blood,  and  yet  they 
were  thronging  to  witness  another  execution.  On- 
ward they  press,  one  cry  sounding  above  all  others 
— **Down  with  the  tyrant—down  with  Bobespierrb. 
To  the  guillotine  with  him  !**  What,  Robespierre ! 
Ay,  that  name,  at  mention  of  which,  as  it  passed 
from  lip  to  lip,  hundreds  of  thousands,  nay,  all 
France,  had  trembled  : — that  name,  whose  magio 
power  had  led  the  maddened  multitude  to  deeds  of 
violence,  and  to  words  of  blasphemy  which  astonish- 
ed tiie  world^that  name,  which  had  swept,  sirocco* 
Uke,  over  the  land,  blaspheming  and  blighting— that 
name,  once  so  powerful,  now  so  powerless— that 
name,  once  so  dreaded,  now  so  contemned.  How 
are  the  mighty  fallen  !  Bobespierre  is  about  to  ex* 
piate  his  crimes,  upon  that  very  scaffold  to  which  he 
nad  sentenced  so  many  victims.  The  guillotine 
stands  on  the  verv  spot  where  the  unhai^py  Louis 
XVI.  and  his  noble  consort,  Marie  Antoinette  had 
suffered.  It  stands  in  the  Place  de  la  Bevolution. 
Around  it  gathered  the  dense  crowd,  waiting  impa- 
tiently to  witness  the  death  of  him  who  had  promis- 
ed them  riches,  and  fields  of  grain,  but  who  had, 
instead,  fed  them  upon  the  blood  of  their  fathers, . 
and  husbands,  and  brothers.  Now  the  crowd  dis- 
ports to  the  right  and  left ;  and,  amid  cursings,  and 
execrations,  and  shouts  oif  exultation,  the  band  of 
conspirators,  against  the  liberties  of  France,  slowly 
advances.  There  are  Henriot,  and  Oouthon,  and  St. 
Just,  and  Dumas,  and  Ooffinal,  and  Simon,  and  others, 
but  other  oonspioaons  among  them  all  is  Bobes- 
l>i«rre--'the  master-spirit^  and  arch-oonspir&tovi  the 


i(.i. 


>,.'.' 


t^W! 


M 


i^- 


¥ 


V, 


24 


mSIEiaEfl  OV  ▲  OOKTBH^* 


tyhmti  the  bloodhound,  of  the  Beyolation.  The 
Dodiei  of  Henriot,  of  Oouthon,  and  of  Bobespierre, 
aie  moitilated — mangled  in  the  bloody  soene  conse- 
qaent  upon  their  seizure,  the  night  before.  They 
all  stand  around  the  fearful  instrument  of  death, 
each  awaiting  his  turn.  One  by  one  they  ascend 
the  platform,  above  which  the  glitteriug  blade  is 
suspended,  and  each  is  heheaded ;  a  wild  shout  of 
joy  goes  up  from  the  congregated  thousands  who 
witness  this  last  offering  to  liberty.  At  last  comes 
the  tyrant's  turn,  and,  as  he  mounts  the  scaffold,  a 
yet  wilder  shout  ascends  from  the  multitude,  who 
are  frantic  with  exultation.  There  he  stands,  the 
last  of  the  dreaded  enemies  of  human  rights !  See 
the  blood  oozing  from  the  bandage  that  holds  up  his 
fractured  jaw;  it  runs  down  upon  his  clothing; 
the  executioner  snatches  the  bandage  from  his  head ; 
the  broken  jaw  falls  upon  his  breast;  and  one  yell 
of  terrible  agony  is  wrung  from  his  stoical  soul, 
which  had  borne  the  anguish  of  the  previous  ni^ht, 
without  a  groan.  But,  what  cry  is  that  which 
pierces  the  ear,  whose  tones,  sounding  even  above 
th^  yell  of  mortal  pain  which  filled  every  heart  with 
Vliorror,  are  heard  ringing  out  shrill  and  clear  upon 
*the  air  P  It  was  the  voice  of  a  woman — a  young 
and  beautiful  woman,^hose  dress  of  deepest  mourn- 
ing, and  whose  pale  face,  showed  that  she  has  been  a 
sufferer  from  the  tyrant's  cruelties.  Hark  to  the 
voice !  *'  Mufderer  of  my  father,  your  agony  fills 
me  with  joy ;  descend  to  hell,  covered  with  the  cur- 
ses of  the  orphan !  aye,  covered  with  the  curses  of  all 
the  orphans  and  widows  you  have  liiade  in  France ;" 
See,  he  shuts  his  eyes,  he  would  fain  stop  his  ears ! 
he  would  gladly  hush  his  conscience,  but  he  cannot; 
the  iron  has  pierced  his  soul—*'  ther^  is  a  Ood,**  The 
retributions  of  that  hour  declare  it.  Bobespierre 
feels  it ;  and,  with  remorse  gnawing  at  his  vitals,  he 
bowi  his  head  upon  the  block,  and  l3s  doomed  spirit 
l^assei  into  the  awful  presenoe  of  JjiAioTah :  eanilta&l 


inrSTBBXBS  09  ▲  CfOirVEMT. 


2IS 


shouts  proclaim  the  joy  of  France,  th«it  a  tyrant  hai 
been  removed  from  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  while  the 
whole  scene  declared  the  presence  of  an  ayenging 
Deity. 

Tlie  execution  oyer,  the  crowd  dispersed;  and 
Louise  St.  Aubyn,  leaning  heavily  unou  the  arm  of 
Pierre^  the  old  veteran,  walked  slowly  homeward. 
It  was  she  who,  having  heard  what  was  to  transpire 
that  day,  liad  clothed  herself  in  mourninf^,  and, 
standing  beneath  the  guillotine,  had  cursed  Bobes* 
pierre,  the  murderer  of  her  father. 


f: 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Louise  lonprs  to  Ittve  France—Looking  towards  Ameiica— 
Trevails  upon  Pierre  and  Marie  to  accompany  her— Ai* 
rival  in  the  new  Republic -Church  of  the  Jesuits— In* 
terview  with  Father  Jubert. 

Franob  was  hateful  to  Louise,  since  the  death  of 
her  father,  and  the  atrocities  which  she  had  witnes- 
sed, and  of  which  she  had  heard ;  and  she  Ionised  to 
leave  its  shores.  She  had  heard  much  of  the  young 
Bepublic  across  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  determined 
to  go  thither,  that  she  might  no  longer  be  surround* 
ed  by  those  whom  she  regarded  as  lawless  murder- 
ers,  against  whom  she  had  in  secret  vowed  eternal 
hatred.  Indeed,  her  heart  was  filled  with  bitterness 
towards  her  whole  race,  save  the  good  Pierre,  the 
kind  Marie,  and  the  generous  banker,  M.  de  Mont* 
main ;  the  only  beings,  in  all  the  world,  towarda 
whom  she  felt  one  emotion  of  regard  or  esteem. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  the  tragical  events 
narrated  in  the  last  chapter,  Louise  called  Pierre 
and  his  wife  into  her  room,  after  breakfast,  and, 
bidding  them  be  seated,  she  said  to  them : 

^My  lriend8|J  bate  France;   I  wish  to  leave  1^ 

224  IT 


Sft 


ttVS9AItlB8  09  A  OONVfiKf  • 


and  seek  an  asylum  in  the  new  home  of  the  sorrow- 
strioken.  the  United  States.  I  am  unwilling  to  lea?e 
you  behind ;  will  you  go  with  me  P" 

**  But  Mademoiselle/'  replied  Pierre,  who  was 
much  astonished  at  this  inteUigence— **  we  have  not 
the  means ;  and,  besides,  we  should  starve,  when  we 
got  there,  without  friends,  and  without  business." 

^^  As  to  the  means  of  getting  to  America"— re- 
Rx>nded  Louise—**  leave  that  to  me ;  I  will  provide 
them.  It  is  as  little  as  I  can  do  in  return  for  the 
kindness  which  you  have  manifested  to  me,  during 
the  many  months  that  I  have  spent  under  yourhos- 
pitable  roof«  I  will  pay  your  passage  across  the 
ocean ;  and,  when  we  reach  that  jfriendly  shore,  we 
will  take  a  house,  and  live  together  as  we  do  here. 
Our  good  Pierre  can  find  something  to  do ;  you,  Ma« 
rie,  and  I,  can  keep  house,  and  thus  we  will  do  very 
well.  I  have  seven  thousand  francs  left ;  and,  while 
these  last,  you  shall  not  want.  Come,  let  us  leave 
this  horrible  country,  and  go  at  once  where  at  least 
our  lives  will  be  safe,  and  we  can  earn  our  daily 
bread  in  peace.    What  say  you,  my  friends  P" 

'*  Ah  !  it  will  be  hard  to  leave  FarisL  with  all  ber 
faults/'  answered  Pierre :  "  but  ye^  I  feel  well  as- 
sured, from  what  I  have  heard  about  that  far  of! 
oountry,  that  Mademoiselle  Louise  advises  for  the 
best.  We  love  her,'*— continued  he,  addressing  him- 
lelf  to  his  wife—"  and  we  will  go  with  her ;  we  can 
ioon  earn  enough,  by  our  labour,  to  repay  what  she 
may  advance  for  our  expenses.  Oome,  Marie,  say 
yes,  and  we  will  go  with  her." 

**  Well,  Pierre,  be  it  so,  then.  We  have  nothing 
to  keep  us  here,  save  our  love  for  la  belle  France, 
and  wno  knows  but  we  may  grow  rich  in  America, 
which  we  assuredly  cannot  do  here." 

^  By  the  way,"  said  Pierre,  '*  it  Just  occurs  to  me, 
ftfc  thu  moment;  that  the  captain  of  the  new  brig, 
fho  Jean  Mauzioe,  told  me,  the  ottier  dey,  that  hs 
iroiiU  itart  frcai  nane  for  Kew  Tork,  some  timi 


ttinstmiiBS  6lf  ▲  doNViBiCft 


27 


next  wock.  U  you  say  so,  Madenioiscile  Louise,  1 
will  see  the  oaptain,  and  ascertain  what  he  will 
charge  to  take  us  all  to  that  place." 

Suffice  it  to  sav  that  the  arrangements  were  all 
made  to  the  satisxaction  of  Louise  and  her  compa- 
nions ;  their  passports  obtained,  hers  being  in  an 
assumed  name ;  and  on  the  Thursday  following  the 
conversation  that  has  just  been  related,  the  Jean 
Maurice  was  breasting  the  waves  of  the  ooeaui  on 
her  way  to  the  new  world. 

In  due  time  the  brig  arrived  at  its  port  of  destina- 
tion ;  and,  in  a  few  days,  Pierre  had  taken,  at  the 
request  of  Louise,  a  nice  little  house  in  the  suburba 
of  the  city,  which  was  plainly  but  comfortably  fur- 
nished ;  and  here  the  three  friends,  whom  misfortune 
had  so  singularly  bound  together  in  strong  ties,  lived 
in  the  enjoyment  of  quiet  and  repose.  Pierre  loon 
found  profitable  employment ;  Marie  busied  herself 
with  household  affairs ;  while  Louise  employed  her 
time  in  embroidery,  lessons  in  which  she  nad  taken 
before  sne  left  Paris,  and  for  which  she  received  a 
handsome  remuneration  from  a  French  merchant, 
who  had  been  for  some  time  established  in  business. 
Some  weeks  rolled  away,  when,  one  morning, 
Louise  entered  the  confessional  in  the  church  of  the 
JesuitSy  at  New  York  ;  and,  after  a  full  confession, 
sought  absolution  from  the  priest  who  was  present. 
He  inquired  who  she  was,  and,  manifesting  great 
sympatnyfor  her  sorrows,  asked  for  her  adcbreas; 
telling  her  he  would  call,  in  a  few  days,  and  pay 
her  a  pastoral  visit.  This  priest  was  ayonngman^ 
of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  of  handsome  features, 
commanding  figure,  polished  manners,  and  was  a 
refugee  from  France,  being  a  descendant  from  a  no* 
ble  family;  his  name,  Jubert. 

It  was  not  long  before  Father  Jubert  stood  before 
the  dwelling  of  Louise  St.  Aubyn,  and.  lightly  rap- 
ping at  the  doo:|\  was  admitted  into  the  little  par- 
lonr,  where  sat&ef  whom  heeame  toiee.  TIm Uum| 


'        ll 


28 


mrsTSXtiss  of  a  ooiiVByT. 


mantled  upon  the  cheek  of  Louise,  as  she  looked  at 
the  handsome  priest ;  and,  Jesuit  as  he  was,  and  ac- 
oustomed  to  the  maintenance  of  an  iron  control  over 
himself,  the  tell-tale  blood  which  mounted  to  his 
face,  told  that  an  impression  had  been  made  upon 
his  heart  which  would  be  exceedingly  dangerous  to 
the  peace  of  both. 

The  interview  was  a  lon^  one ;  for  Father  Jubert 
insisted  upon  having,  from  the  lips  of  Louise  a  full 
account  of  her  past  history ;  and,  during  its  recital, 
manifested  the  deepest  interest  in  its  details. 

At  length,  the  narrative  was  completed ;  and  the 
priest  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  Louise  St. 
Aubyn  possessed  rare  qualifications  for  membership 
in  the  order  of  Jesuits,  and  that  if  she  could  but  be 
persuaded  to  join  that  order,  it  would  be  at  once  a 
most  valuable  acquisition,  while  it  would  render 
more  easy  of  accomplishment,  certain  intentions  of 
his  own,  which  had  been  formed  in  his  inind,  while, 
with  flushed  cheek  and  fire-flashing  eye,  she  had 
told  her  thrilling  story. 

He,  therefore,  related  to  her,  at  her  request,  hit 
own  history,  taking  care  to  expatiate  upon  the  hap- 
py retreat  from  worldy  anxiety,  which  he  had  found 
in  the  bosom  of  the  church,  and  in  association  with 
the  order  of  which  he  was  a  member.  His  impas- 
iioned  eloquence,  while  he  enlarged  upon  this  topic, 
made  a  oeep  impression  upon  the  mmd  of  Louise, 
already  predisposed,  by  misanthrophic  feeling,  to 
abandon  the  world,  and  shut  herself  out  from  its  tu- 
mult and  its  sorrows ;  and  the  wil^  Jesuit,  finding 
that  he  had  succeeded  beyond  his  expectations, 
thought  it  best  not  to  push  the  matter,  at  that  time, 
any  further,  but  to  leave  the  impression  to  deepen 
itself,  and  work  its  own  way. 

Bising  gracefully  from  his  chair,  and  offering  hit 
iervices  to  Louise,  in  the  most  delicate  manner  ima- 

f*Qable,  he  promised  to  visit  her  again;  and  took 
I  leavei  with  all  the  refined  politeneee  of  the  ao* 
i^pliebed  nwndhmao. 


K?2(T1^BZSS  OF  A  C0XV£2(7. 


CHAFTEBVII. 

Louise's  reflections  on  the  interview— Its  effect  on  Louise^ 
Anxiety  of  Pierre  and  ^arie— The  heart's  consolationf 
»The  wily  Jesuit 

Tms  interview  with  father  Jubert  left  the  mind  of 
Louise  in  a  tumult  of  emotion,  suoh  as  only  a  being 
of  her  peculiar  mould  is  capable  of.  Before  the  die* 
astrous  event  occurred,  which  made  her  an  orphan, 
she  had  had  but  little  intercourse  with  those  of  the 
opposite  sex ;  and  then  only  when,  on  State  coca* 
sions,  she  had  visited  Paris,  in  company  with  her 
father;  and  although  her  imagination  had  often 
been  inflamed  by  the  perusal  of  romances,  which  she 
found  in  the  library  of  the  chateau,  and  which  she 
had  devoured  with  great  avidity,  she  had  never  be« 
fore  met  with  any  one  who  had  inspired  her  with  the 
feelings  which  she  experienced  in  the  interview  with 
the  young,  the  handsome,  and  the  polished,  French 
priest.  In  short,  she  had  fallen  desperately  in  love 
with  him ;  and  her  quick  woman's  wit  had  made  th# 
discovery  that  the  passion  was  a  reciprocal  one. 
Had  he  been  of  low  origin  in  his  native  land,  she 
would  have  spumed  the  idea ;  but,  as  he  had  inform* 
ed  her  that  he  was  a  son  of  the  Count  Jubert,  thaa 
whose  there  was  no  better  blood  in  France,  her  ro- 
mantic disposition  seized  eagerly  upon  the  adven* 
tures ;  and  her  fondness  for  excitement  of  every 
kind,  that  might  relieve  the  tedious  monotony  of 
her  every-day  life,  found  nutriment  upon  which  to 
feast  itself,  in  the  flame  which  the  Father  Juberl 
had  inspired  in  her  bosom. 

"  But  he  is  a  priest,'*  said  she  to  herself,  as  sh^ 
thought  of  the  otroumstances  which  had  transpired 
\»  tbetotefview;  ai&4  tbis,  imi(^4  o|  ebo^mng  b<l 


■  ■■*='^lte^. 


*"tf-r 


so 


imSBBiBB  Of  A  dOXVJUIT* 


by  the  new  phase  in  which  it  presented  the  rabject 
to  her  mind,  only  serred  to  make  the  affair  more  ro- 
mantio,  and  theref ore,  the  more  pleasurable  to  her 
excited  fancy. 

**  Yet  he  loves  me,  I  know  ;'*  she  added,  mentally. 
'*  Did  not  bis  yoice  falter,  and  his  cheek  redden,  as 
he  spoke  to  meP  and,  w^pn  he  bade  me  good  bye, 
how  his  hand  trembled,  as  he  pressed  mine!  He 
loves  me,  I  am  sure  of  it.  What  a  pity  he  is  a  priest ! 
How  handsome  he  is !  How  agreeable !"  And  thus 
she  sat  reasoning  and  communing  with  her  own 
thoughts,  until  Marie  announced  that  dinuer  was 
on  the  table. 

'*  Mademoiselle  does  not  eat  to-day,"  said  Pierre, 
with  some  anxiety,  as  he  observed  that  Louise 
scarcely  touched  the  food  on  her  plate,  and  seemed 
greatly  abstracted  during  the  silent  meal,  "  I  hope 
you  are  not  unwell." 

'*  I  am  quite  well/'  replied  Louise,  aroused,  for  the 
ciomeut,^from  her  reverie — "  I  was  only  thinking  of 
the  past,  my  good  Pierre,  and  that  made  me  sad.'' 

**  Ah  !  do  not  let  your  thoughts  go  back  to  the 
sorrowful  days  that  are  past.  Mademoiselle  Louise ;" 
—said  M^rie,  with  a  tear  in  her  eye — "  it  will  injure 
your  health ;  think  only  of  that  happy  time  We  now 
see.  and  of  the  bright  future." 

Biit  Louise  heard  not  what  was  said  by  the  kind- 
hearted  Marie;  she  was  thinking  of  the  handsome 
I'viest,  and  of  the  pleasaut  tones  of  his  voice,  which 
seemed  still  to  vibrate  as  sweet  music  upon  her  ear. 
^'ller  simple  friends  exchanged  looks  of  sympathy, 
little  dreaming  of  what  was  passing  in  the  mind  of 
Louise ;  and,  her  plain  meal  being  finished,  she  re- 
tired to  her  own  room,  and  Sj^ent  the  afternoon,  not 
as  usual  over  her  embroidering  frame,  but  in  the 
reveries  of  a  passionate  imagination,  and  in  buildiui; 
air-castles  for  the  future.  She  devised  a  thousaud 
sclif  m^s  by  means  of  which  she  thought,  for  a  mo« 

h^U  \k9  o(^iituel^9  i^  tho  way  of  her  uinpn  with  {*ft* 


rs^'mr^ 


ITTSTSfiXSI  Off  A  OOVTBHT* 


n 


thitr  jTnbert  might  b«  MmoTtd ;  and  at  insonnoiiiit- 
Me  diffloultiei  would  throw  themsdlTet  around  «aoh 
of  these,  as  if  in  mockery  of  her  anxiety  on  the  sah- 
ject,  others  woiild  arise,  to  be  in  tnm  destroyed  by 
some  impossibility  that  would  sug^^est  itself.  Thus 
was  passed  the  afternoon  and  eveniDg  of  that  event- 
ful day ;  and,  at  last,  overcome  with  fatigue,  oonse- 
quent  upon  the  strength  of  her  emotions,  and  the 
unwonted  mental  exercise,  she  fell  asleep,  and 
dreamed  of  the  handsome  young  priest. 

Father  Jubert,  meanwhile,  had  sat  himself  down 
in  his  comfortable  room,  and,  after  recalling  to  mind 
the  incidents  that  had  been  related  to  him  by  Louise 
in  their  interview,  and  reflecting  upon  the  traits  of 
character  which  she  had  developed  to  his  keen  ob« 
Bervation,  as  well  as  the  beauty  of  her  face  and  per- 
son, which  had  indeed  made  a  most  lively  impression 
upon  his  heart,  as  she  had  supposed ;  taxed  his  in- 
ventive  powers  to  devise  a  plan  by  means  of  which 
she  mi(;ht  be  induced  to  enter  the  order,  and  he  ac- 
complish his  private  purposes.  Having  succeeded 
in  this,  to  his  own  satisfaction,  and  determined  that 
no  time  should  be  lost  in  carrying  his  plan  into  ef- 
fect, he  turned  to  his  writing-table,  and  addressed 
to  the  superior  of  the  order  in  Bome,  a  letter,  con- 
taining some  general  information,  and  a  summary 
of  the  events  which  bad  transpired  in  the  last  monUi| 
not  omitting  to  say  enough,  in  reference  to  Louise, 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  superior  to  her  case, 
and  to  eyince  with  what  avidity  the  writer  seized 
upon  every  circumstance  which  might  promote  tUi 
(literests  of  the  o^def. 


f 


ii 


«aTBKI£6  OV  k  OON^TENT* 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

The  loTwr'i  dream— The  coiife^«iorftl— It«  effectp  on  TiOnlie 
—Her  determination  to  enter  the  Convent  of  St.  Mary's 
—Sorrow  ofherfriendis— Enters  the  Convent,  under  the 
appellation  of  Sister  Frances— Father  Jabert's  wily 
schemes. 

On  awakening,  the  next  morning,  Louise  found  her- 
self, as  it  were,  in  a  new  world ; — a  world  containing 
but  two  inhabitants,  the  priest  of  whom  she  had 
dreamed,  and  herself.  She  arose,  and  dressed  herself 
with  more  than  her  usual  care :  and,  after  break- 
fast,  telling  Marie  that  she  was  goini^  to  confession, 
repaired  to  the  church  which  she  had  visited  a  week 
before ;  and  there,  to  her  great  joy,  she  found  Father 
Jubert  in  his  seat,  ready  to  listen  to  her.  With  pal- 
pitating heart,  she  entered  the  confessional,  and  her 
tremulous  voice  betrayed  the  emotion  of  her  soul. 
The  priest  heard  her  through,  and  then  administered 
consolation  to  her ;  but  what  was  said,  or  what  was 
done,  in  that  hour,  the  writer  is  not  prepared  to  say. 
Let  it  suffice  that  Louise  left  the  church,  with  a  smile 
upon  her  countenance,  which  bespoke  the  joy  of  her 
beart,  and,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  astonished 
the  good  Pierre  and  his  wife,  by  informing  them  that 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  enter  the  convent  of 
St.  Mary's,  in  New  York ;  and  that  she  should  give 
to  them  one  half  of  the  remaining  money  which  she 
had  brought  from  France,  to  be  their  own :  so  that 
they  might  not  suffer  from  the  step  she  was  about  to 
take. 

Marie,  who  loved  Louise,  burst  into  tears,  and 
wrung  her  hands  in  the  bitterness  of  her  sorrow,  de- 
claring that  she  should  die  without  the  presence  of 
her  good  mistress,  for  so  she  termed  her ;  and  Pierre 
Itood  9Pttt0  and  nottOBllHi  ^  il  i^e  were  itriviug  to 


irrSTKBIES  OF  A  COITTBKV. 


%i 


eompreheDd  what  had  been  said  to  him.  Mean- 
vhiU,  LoniM  toothed  them,  by  telling  them  that  she 
bad  no  longer  anything  to  liye  for  in  this  world,  that 
her  sitaation  was  a  peculiarly  distressing  one,  and 
that  her  happiness  would  be  greatly  promott»d  by 
placing  herself  under  the  protection  of  the  nuns,  in 
association  with  whom  she  could  spend  her  days  in 
acts  of  dcTotion  and  works  of  piety.  She  also  as* 
snred  them  that  her  entrance  into  the  convent  would 
not  prevent  her  from  seeing  them  frec]^uently,  and 
from  affording  them  assistance,  at  any  time,  should 
they  require  it. 

Thus  assured,  her  kind  friends  reluctantly  con* 
sented  to  their  separation  from  Louise ;  and,  dliring 
the  remainder  of  that  day,  Marie's  eyes  were  con- 
stantly red  with  weeping. 

Some  ten  days  were  spent  by  Louise  in  making 
preparations  for  her  conveutual  life,  during  which 
time  frequent  visits  were  paid  to  the  family  by  the 
nuns  of  the  convent,  and  by  Father  Jubert ;  the  lat« 
ter  interesting  himself  for  Pierre  so  much  as  to  set 
him  up  in  a  small  but  lucrative  business,  by  means 
of  the  money  which  Louise  had  presented  to  him, 
in  token  of  her  friendship,  and  of  the  appreciation 
in  which  she  held  his  past  kindness  and  fidelity. 

Before  entering  the  convent,  Louise,  under  the  di- 
rection of  Father  Jubert,  made  a  safe  investment  of 
her  remaining  money,  subject  to  her  own  order 
while  living,  reversionary  to  the  order  at  her  death ; 
and,  procuring  the  services  of  an  agent  to  visit 
France,  and  attend  to  her  interests  there,  executed 
,  an  instrument  in  writing,  donating  the  one  half  of 
whatever  might  be  realized  from  her  father's  estate, 
absolutely  to  the  Jesuits,  and  retaining  the  control 
of  the  other  half  in  her  own  hands,  with  an  obliga* 
tion  that  it  should  be  given  ultimately  to  the  con- 
vent in  which  she  should  end  her  days. 

In  due  time,  she  entered  the  convent,  and,  having 
passed  h^  Qovitiate  mtisfaotorily,  becaioe  e  nuni 


14 


Of  A  coimirYt 


wi4ir  thaappellalbnol  liitirFnuioM;  andyfrom 
tile  moment  of  her  introdaetion  into  the  order,  as* 
emiied  a  position,  and  acquired  an  influence,  which 
amply  atteeted  the  sagacity  of  Father  Juhert,  and 
▼enfied  the  soundoess  of  the  conclusions  which  he 
had  drawn  from  their  first  interview. 

Meanwhile,  the  latter,  who  was  the  confessor  to 
this  same  conTeut,  had  not  heeu  idle,  hut  had  la* 
boured  industriously  to  promote  the  interests  of  sis- 
ter Frances,  between  whom  and  himself  a  solemn 
oompact  had  been  entered  into,  on  the  morning  of 
thiU  last  visit  to  the  coufessioual,  to  which  allusion 
has  already  been  made.  By  means  of  an  under- 
ground communication  between  the  monastery,  in 
which  he  resided  to  avoid  scandal,  and  the  convent, 
by  the  connivance  of  the  sister  Porter,  who  waa 
charged  with  the  care  of  the  gate  which  opened  into 
the  Utter  building  from  the  arched  way  which  form- 
ed this  communication,  he  visited  sister.  Frances  al- 
most nightly  in  her  private  cell,  where  he  instructed 
her  in  the  mysteries  and  usages  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
prepared  her  fully  to  act  that  part  which  she  after- 
wards filled  with  such  distiuguished  ability.  Nor 
was  thefather  confessor  wholly  disinterested  in  thes^ 
labours ;  he  was  duly  rewarded ;  and,  as  subsequent 
events  will  demonstrate,  they  were  coupled  with  his 
own  schemes  of  personal  ambition.  A  more  unhal- 
lowed oompact  than  that  which  existed  between  this 
priest  and  sister  Frances—a  compact  instigated  by  a 
Jesuit  mind,  and  the  foul  offspring  of  passion  and  of 
pride— was  perhaps  nevereutered  into^  nor  §ver  mo^s 
fearf  uUjT  pauishetlf 


mrauoasov  a  oovnon. 


8& 


■*■) 


r  §7er  mojre 


CHAPTEB  IX. 

Honoiin  in  prospect— Ecttacy  of  Fathor  Jubert— Powtr, 
apostrophe  to— The  compact  not  to  be  forgotten— Arri- 
yal  of  the  Legate— His  treatment— Approaching  cere- 
mony—High  Mass  celebrated— Consistorial  Hall,  its 
splendid  furniture  and  fittings— Procession  of  priests— 
The  oeremonyof  Installation— Awful  Oath— The  cup  of 
blood— The  Bible  cursed  and  burned— Fierce  exultation 
o^the  priests— The  American  flag  of  liberty  trampl^l 
unde»  foot,  and  torn  in  pieces— Father  Jubert  maS> 
head  of  the  Order  of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola,  for  the  United 
States  of  America— Homage  and  obeisance  of  the  priests 
— OaUi  of  allegiance, 

FiTB  years  had  passed  away,  when,  one  morning, 
a  large  and  carefully-healed  document,  bearing  upon 
it  the  impress  of  the  Father  General  of  the  Order  at 
Borne, was  handed  to  Father  Jubert.  Dismissing 
the  servant  who  had  brought  it,  he  broke  the  seals, 
and  sat  down  at  his  writing-table  to  read  it.  As  he 
progressed  in  its  perusal,  he  became  singularly  af« 
lected ;  and,  at  length,  arising  from  his  chair,  great- 
ly  agitated,  his  eve  dilated,  and  his  countenance  ex- 
pressiye  both  ox  astonishment  and  joy,  he  stood 
erect,  and,  with  the  letter  held  almost  at  arm's 
length,  he  gazed  upon  it  intently,  as  though  he  found 
it  difficult  to  comprehend  its  menn'ug.  Then, 
snatching  his  cap  from  his  head,  he  threw  it  up  in 
the  air,  and  clapped  his  hands  in  very  excitement, 
exclaiming,  as  he  did  so : 

I*  Well,  it  has  come  at  last ;  and  I— yes,  I— Fran- 
cois Jubert,— am  Head  of  the  Order  ox  St.  Ignatius 
Lovola,  in  these  United  States.'' 

Again  seating  himself,  and  oarefuUy  examining 
the  seals,  the  envelope,  the  outside  and  inside,  of 
the  document  which  conferred  this  high  dignity  up- 

OA  himi  as  though  he  yet  leared  that  there  m^kt 


M 


KTiXXBIES  OV  ▲  OONTm* 


bo  Aome  mistake,  ha  appeared  to  be  Mlj  latiiflad 
with  hie  eorutiny,  and,  replacinff  the  missiTe  upon 
the  table,  agaiu  arose  and  paoed  the  room  from  one 
end  to  the  other,  talking  to  himself,  and  occasionally 
uttering  audibly  a  sentence  or  two. 

^  It  is  well,"  he  said  ;  *<  I  have  richly  merited  this 
honour,  young  as  I  am." 

*' Power!  dearest  idol  of  my  soul,  I  have  thee; 
aye,  and  will  use  thee,  too  I" 

**  Louise,  our  compact  shall  not  be  forgotten." 

^  But  when  does  he  say  the  installation  is  to  take 
place  P"  Here  he  seized  the  letter,  and  read, 

**  The  Legate,  by  whom  you  are  to  be  installed, 
within  ten  days  after  his  arrival  in  New  York,  is  the 
bearer  of  this  letter.  See  that  he  is  treated  with  all 
the  respect  due  to  his  high  office." 

*'  Ideated  with  all  the  respect  due  to  his  high  of- 
fice," slowly  repeated  the  Jesuit.  ^*  Aye,  that  shall 
he  be ;  and  he  shall  be  made  a  stepping  stone  to 
further  power.  I  must  away  to  see  this  Legate." 

So  saying,  he  carefully  locked  up  the  important 
document,  and,  arranging  his  dress,  went  out  to 
make  the  necessary  preparations  for  tne  suitable  re- 
ception of  him  who  bore  so  honourable  a  commission 
as  the  representative  of  the  Supreme  Power  at  Eome. 

Several  days  of  feasting  and  ceremony  had  pas- 
sed by,  that  set  apart  for  the  installation  of  Father 
Jubert  had  arrived. 

At  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  High  Mass  was 
celebrated  in  the  chapel  of  the  monastery ;  after 
which  all  the  members  of  the  order,  resident  iu  the 
city,  together  with  several  from  a  distance,  who  had 
been  hastily  summoned  to  attend,  adjourned  in  pro* 
cession  to  the  Consistorial  Hall,  in  the  same  build- 
ing. This  was  a  spacious  room,  with  arched  ceil- 
ing, eome  siztjr  feet  in  length,  by  thirty  in  width; 
the  walls  heavily  draped  in  black  cloth,  which  hung 
in  deep  folds,  so  as  entirely  to  shut  out  from  sight 
Ihe  o|»euing|  both  tor  windows  ^d  doors.     At  out 


inrStB&IBS  Olf  A  66lNlEKlf. 


ar 


end  of  this  apartment  was  a  platform  raised  8ome 
three  feet  above  the  floor,  being  covered  with  rich 
carpetiug  of  the  best  fabric.  Upon  this  platform  or 
dais,  was  placed  a  sort  of  throue,  painted  a  bright 
scarlet,  ornamented  with  gold,  and  surmounted  by  a 
magnificent  canopy  of  silk,  of  the  same  colour,  trim- 
med with  heavy  gold  fringe.  In  the  centre  of  the 
room  was  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  a  richly  cut- 
glass  chandelier,  with  almost  iuuumerable  lights 
brilliantly  burning  ;  while  placed  at  convenient  dis- 
tances around  the  hall  were  candelabra  of  silver, 
supporting  massive  branch  candlesticks,  each  having 
several  lights.  At  the  lower  end,  there  was  a  neat 
but  small  organ,  of  powerful  tone,  and  seats  for  the 
choristers  arranged  near  it. 

Immediately  in  front  of  the  throne  stood  an  altar, 
upon  which  was  placed  a  golden  censer,  sending 
forth  its  clouds  of  sweet  incense  to  perfume  the  air; 
and  near  this  altar,  an  ancient,  curiously  carved 
chair,  lined  and  cushioned  with  black  velvet,  and 
studded  with  gold-headed  nails,  intended  for  the  oc- 
cupancy of  the  candidate  for  the  honours  of  the  oo« 
oasion.  Seats  of  a  plainer  description,  but  display- 
ing the  same  contrast  of  colours,  were  arranged 
along  ihe  sides  of  the  room,  on  either  hand. 

As  the  procession  of  priests,  clothed  in  their  long 
black  robes,  with  their  peculiarly  shaped  caps  up- 
on their  heads,  and  having  the  youngest  member  of 
the  order  in  the  front,  bearing  a  massive  silver  cru- 
cifix, and  the  oldest  in  the  rear,  with  the  Legate  in 
the  centre,  supported  on  the  right  hand  by  the  can- 
didate, and  on  the  left  by  the  Father  Superior  of 
the  monastery ;  and  all,  save  these  last,  walking  two 
abreast,  entering  the  ante  chamber,  they  severally 
armed  themselves  with  drawn  swords,  which  were 
placed  in  racks  on  either  hand ;  and,  as  they  passed 
through  the  looned«ap  drapery  which  covered  the 
ample  door-way,  between  two  sentinels,  who,  fully 
vmedi  were  there  found  on  duty,  they  severally  gavf 


1 


tt 


ItlrSVBlllXS  69  A  OOMVJfillt* 


WW 


the  watch-word,  on  the  right  aud  left—*'  A  has  la  U* 

HaTiDfT  entered  the  spacious  hall,  whose  whole 
airangements presented  amost  imposing  appearance; 
th#  Legate  was  escorted  to  the  throne^  by  the  entire 
body  of  priests,  who  kneeled  in  a  circle  around  him, 
while  he  seated  himself,  and  exclaimed, 

**  Honour  to  hia  lordship,  the  Legate  of  his  Holi* 
ness  the  Pope,  and  Vicegerent  of  the  Father  General 
of  the  Order  of  St  Ignatius  Loyola  I" 

Then  rising,  and  taking  their  appropriate  seats, 
the  crucifix,  meanwhile,  having  been  placed  in  an 
upright  position  in  a  receptacle  for  its  foot,  pro* 
▼idea  for  the  purpose,  near  the  altar,  a  low -toned, 
but  beautiful,  chant  was  sung  by  the  choir,  assisted 
by  the  organ,  whose  rich  notes  seemed  to  fill  the 
apartment  with  fleeting  melody. 

The  Legate,  wearing  a  robe  of  gorgeous  grandeur, 
then  arose,  and,  with  a  distinct  voice,  read  aloud  the 
authority,  appointing  Francois  Jubert  the  Repre- 
sentative of  the  Supreme  Head  of  the  Jesuits  in  the 
United  States ;  and  commanding  his  installation  as 
such,  by  the  hands  of  the  Father  Borneo,  there  pre- 
sent for  that  purpose, 

**  The  will  of  the  Father  Qeneral  be  done !"  cried 
all  tiie  priests,  devoutly  crossing  themselves  and 
bowing  low,  as  the  Legate  took  his  seat,  while 
a  joyous  peal  burst  forth  from  the  organ. 

l)irecting  the  Superior  of  the  monastery  to  pre- 
sent the  candidate  at  the  altar,  the  Legate  proceed^ 
•d  to  dictate  to  the  kneeling  priest,  the  rest  all  stand- 
ing, the  following  oath,  which  was  repeated  by  hioi 
in  sm  andible  voice : 

^  I,  Francois  Jubert,  in  the  presence  of  the  Holy 
Mother  of  God ;  of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola ;  the  Le* 
gate  of  the  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits, 
tjid  of  these  members  of  the  same,  here  assembled : 
do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear ;— that  I  wi9 
«»4  do  i«noiinco  tU  aUegianoe  to  Ung,  prinoS|po« 


*  f 


BrtrwTKlrtliR  6t*  A  <?6iiVfe5rt« 


M 


tentate,  and  power  of  oTery  kind,  and  how<^Ter  con- 
stituted, which  may  now  or  hereafter  hold  ciyil  rule 
in  this  or  in  any  other  country  in  which  I  may  be 
called  to  reside ;  acknowledi^nf;r«  now  and  for  oyer. 
no  other  civil  or  relicrions  rule  whatsocTer,  save  that 
of  his  Holiness,  the  Pope— the  Vicegerent  and  Vicar 
of  Christ— and  of  the  Father  General  of  the  order 
of  St.  Ignatius  Loyola ;  hereby  solemnly  engaging 
to  surrender  myself,  at  all  times,  as  I  now  do,  body, 
soul,  and  spirit,  unreservedly  to  their  sole  control ; 
to  have  no  will  or  mind  of  my  own,  but  unhesita- 
tingly and  without  question,  in  all  things,  to  think, 
and  speak,  and  act,  as  they  may  direct. 

<*  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  eternal 
hatred  to  all  forms  of  government,  whether  mon- 
archical or  republic,  and  by  whomsoever  adminis- 
tared,  whose  tendency  is  in  any  wise,  directly  or  in- 
directly, to  limit,  or  subvert,  or  control  the  supreme 
and  rightful  authority  of  his  Holiness,  the  Pope,  or 
the  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  to  reign 
over  thiB  whole  world ;  and  to  use  my  best  endea- 
vours, at  all  times,  for  the  overthrow  of  all  such 
governments,  and  the  universal  extension  of  that  of 
the  order  of  'vhich  I  am  a  member. 

''I  do  sincerely  and  soiemnly  swear  eternal  hatred 
to  all  sects,  societies,  and  institutions,  of  every  kind, 
whether  political  or  reli^ous,  which  tend  to  the  es- 
tablishment of  civil  or  religious  freedom  in  this  or 
in  any  other  land ;  and  to  use  my  best  efforts  for 
their  destruction ;  ever  keeping  in  my  mind  that 
divine  maxim  of  the  order,  that-~'the  end  juitiflea 
the  means.' 

**  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  that  I 
will  not  appropriate  to  my  own  purposes,  any  funda 
that  may  be  entrusted  to  my  care  or  keeping,  as  be- 
longing to  the  treasury  of  the  order ;  but  will  sacred- 
ly apply  the  same  to  the  uses  to  which  they  are  lei 
apart,  rendering  to  the  Father  General  at  Bome^ 
quarterly,  a  true  and  faitUttl  aeoonnl  ol  the  «sm^} 


4t 


tttVnsttlFM  0^  ▲  CftNVRIdT. 


and  that  I  will  further  use  all  pom{>>Ia  m^ani  to  (n* 
er^Rse  the  wealth  of  the  order,  for  tUf  better  accom- 
plishment of  the  purposes  for  which  it  has  hcen  in* 
■tituted 

*•  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swenr  that  I 
will  not  expose,  to  any  person  or  persons  whatever, 
Dor  permit  the  same  to  be  done  by  others,  any  of  the 
Becret  instructions  that  may  be  given  to  me  by  the 
Father  General,  or  any  of  his  duly  accredited  aeents ; 
and  should  any  such  at  any  time  fall  into  the  handi 
of  those  for  whom  they  were  not  intended,  I  will 
deny,  even  with  oaths,  their  authenticity,  affirming 
Uiem  to  be  forgeries. 

**  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  to  resfard 
the  orders,  instructions,  and  requirements,  of  the 
Father  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits,  as  of  para- 
mount authority  to  tho^e  of  his  Holiness  the  Pope, 
whencTer  the  latter  shall  clash  or  conflict  with  the 
former ;  and,  should  I  ever  discover  any  plot  or  con- 
spiracy, or  intention  of  evil  in  any  person  or  persons 
whatsoever,  towards  the  interests  or  safetv  of  the 
order,  I  will,  without  delay,  communicate  the  jaroe 
to  the  Father  General,  and  do  all  in  my  power  to 
contravene  and  to  thwart  such  plot,  conspiracy,  or 
intention  of  evil :  always  esteeming  his  interest  and 
authority,  as  the  head  of  the  order,  paramount  to 
all  others. 

'*  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  that  I 
will  keep  a  true,  faithful,  and  permanent  register, 
and  forward  a  copy  thereof  quarterly  to  the  Father 
General,  of  all  events,  political  or  religious  that  may 
come  to  my  knowledge,  and  of  all  persons,  by  name, 
residence,  and  occupation,  whether  Protestant  or 
Catholic,  who  may  in  any  wise,  or  to  any  extent,  ob- 
struct the  progress  of  our  order,  or  say  or  do  anafA 
against  it ;  and  by  my  agents,  officers,  and  emissa* 
vies,  do  all  in  my  power  to  injure  their  business,  and 
vain  their  character  and  fortune. 

**  I  do  most  sincerely  and  solemnly  swear  that  i 


KTStlBISS  Of  A  COWVEitP, 


41 


Will,  at  whatever  inconTeniMice  or  sncnfice  to  my- 
self, rernir*  wiUiout  dolay,  to  Tl<nji^.  or  wliatever 
other  r'ace  T  may  be  ordere<l  by  the  F'lf  »ipr  Gotieral ; 
and  sVouM  I  in  any  nianner  violate  t^i*  mv  oath,  I 
will  iiif'Tiii  bim  of  Ruch  vi«  latioii,  and  iintl<»r''o  any  , 
punifll'tiieiit  that  be  may  think  pro]  er  to  indict  upon 
lue  therefure. 

**To  do,  and  keep,  and  perform,  all  of  this,  I  de- 
TOiitly  call  upon  the  ever  blessed  Trinity  to  witneaa 
my  sincerity ;  and  should  I  ever  prove  a  traitor  to 
the  order,  or  betray  its  interests,  or  its  secrets,  may 
tiie  severest  pains  of  purgatory  be  snffered  by  me. 
without  cessation  or  mitigation,  for  ever  and  ever. 

"Amen  1  and  Amen !"  shouted  all  the  priests. 

This  fearful  oath— so  fully  embracinf^  all  the  de- 
structive features  of  the  Jesnita,  and  so  faithfully 
portraying  the  real  objects  of  their  organizations— 
Aavinpr  been  taken  by  the  candidate,  he  was  sternly 
ordered  to  arise  from  his  kneeling  posture,  and  to 
place  his  hand  upon  the  cross,  the  symbol  of  "bis 
faith ;  while  the  whole  number  of  priests  were  made 
to  surround  him,  and,  pointing  their  naked  swords 
at  his  body,  were  directed  to  thrust  the  steel  to  his 
heart,  should  he  falter  or  liesitatein  the  least  in  obey- 
ing  the  order  which  should  next  be  given  to  bim,  and 
which  was  wholly  unexpected  by  him  ;  a  test  of  the 
promptitude  to  comply  with  any  mandate  that  he 
may  hereafter  receive  from  the  Supreme  Head  of 
the  order,  though  its  performance  might  iuvolve 
even  death  itself. 

The  Superior  of  the  monastery,  by  direction  of 
the  Legate,  then  handed  to  the  candidate  a  small 
cup,  formed  of  a  section  of  a  skull,  into  which  bad 
been  poured  about  half  a  gill  of  a  dark  fluid  resem- 
bling human  blood.  Bidding  him  hold  this  qup  to 
his  lips,  the  Legate  thus  addressed  bim  :— 

*  Francois  Jubert,  the  honour  which  I  am  about 
to  confer  upon  you,  by  the  authority  of  his  Holiness 
tne  Pope,  and  of  the  Father  General  of  the  order  of 
224  0 


4i 


-^tTBfftmtzB  0^  A  C6isntm9. 


St,  Ignatius  Lojola,  is  of  too  august  a  character, 
aud  iuvolves  interests  of  too  great  moment  to  be 
lightly  bestowed,  or  to  be  given  to  one  who  quails 
at  the  sight)  or  smell,  or  taste,  of  human  blood ;  if 
you  have  been  sincere  iu  taking  the  solemn  oath 
which  has  just  been  administered  to  jon^  and  if  you 
are  worthy  of  the  high  honour  for  which  you  are  the 
candidate,  you  will  not  hesitate  to  drink  the  con- 
tents uf  that  cup.  If  you  are  insincere  or  craven  in 
spirit,  you  will  hesitate  and  die.  It  is  blood^nums.  V 

No  sooner  had  the  word  passed  the  lips  of  the  Le- 
gate^uttered  in  a  tone  of  powerful  emphasis,  which 
ran  through  the  vast  apartment,  and  vibrated  on  the 
uerves  of  the  priests — than  the  candidate  swallowed 
the  contents  of  the  cup,  without  even  blanohiug,  as 
though  it  had  contained  the  most  delicious  nectar; 
and,  to  show  that  he  had  done  so,  held  it  up  at  the 
full  stretch  of  his  arm,  as  his  commanding  stature 
towered  above  the  priests  who  surrounded  him,  its 
bottom  turned  upwards. 

♦•Lower  your  swords!"  cried  the  Legate,  "the 
candidate  is  worthy." 

The  priests  let  fall  their  sword  points,  and,  as  they 
did  so,  a  rich  and  triumphant  gust  of  music  sounded 
forth  from  the  organ ;  while  the  choristers  chanted 
the  patron  saint  and  founder  of  the  order. 

**  Bring  forth  the  accursed  book,"  cried  the  Legate, 
when  the  music  had  ceased. 

A  copy  of  the  Protestant  Bible  was  then  handed 
to  the  candidate;  while  a  chaffing  dish  of  buruiog 
ooal  was  placed  before  him. 

**  That  book,"  said  the  Legate,  "  is  the  great  ene* 
my  of  our  Order.  It  must  perish  from  the  earth,  or 
we  must  cease  to  exist.  Curse  and  burn  it,  in  token 
of  your  enmity  and  ours,  and  of  your  determination 
to  do  all  that  lies  in  your  power  for  its  destructioD, 
and  with  it  for  that  of  all  heretics." 

**  1  onrse  thee,  thou  text-book  of  heresy !"  ezclaim« 
•d  tbt  Oftodidatf  I  placing  thi  lKX>k  upon  the  hl^mt 


SZtSTEBXKS  OP  A.  OONTSKT. 


43 


coals;  <* I  spit  upon  thee,  vile  cheat,  uucompromis- 
intf  enemy  of  my  order.  I  bum  thee ;  aud,  as  thou 
consumest  in  that  flame,  so  may  all  heretics  be  bum- 
ed  in  that  fierce  flame  which  shall  wreathe  itself 
around  them,  in  that  hell  prepared  for  the  reception 
and  punishmeut  of  ail  those  who  put  their  confidence 
in  thee ;  and  reject  the  true  Scriptures,  the  only  true 
and  infallible  church." 

As  the  sacred  volume— the  charter  of  human  liber- 
ties—crackled and  glowed  under  the  action  of  the 
fire,  and  its  smoke  ascended  heavenward,  like  the 
spirit  of  many  a  martyr,  whose  body  has  been  burn- 
ed by  the  minions  of  popery,  a  shout,  wild  and  fierce, 
arose  from  the  congregated  priests,  which  shook  the 
room  in  whose  midst  they  stood ;  while  again  the 
organ  and  choristers  sent  forth  Bwelling  pssans  of 
praise  to  "  Mary^  the  refuge  of  sinnerS'-the  blessed 
Mother  of  Qodr 

"  Briug  forth  the  ensign  of  freedom  I"  hissed,  from 
between  his  teeth,  the  proud  Legate,  concentrating 
unutterable  hatred  in  the  manner  in  which  he  called 
for  the  American  banner,  under  whose  stars  and 
stripes,  Washington  and  the  worthies  of  the  revolu- 
tion had  fought  and  bled. 

**  This  vile  rag,"  he  cried,  as  the  flag  of  the  Union 
was  being  uufurled  from  its  staff,  *^  fit  emblem  of 
those  hellish  principles  which  have  wrested  this  no- 
ble land,  with  its  fertile  fields,  its  majestic  rivers,  ' 
and  its  ocean  lakes,  from  the  hands  of  an  imbecile 
king ;  which  have  revolutionized  France;  and  whioh, 
if  not  prevented  from  spreading,  will  one  day  over- 
turn the  thrones,  and  destroy  the  ancient  establish- 
ed monarchies  of  Europe  ;  that  vile  rag  is  more  to 
be  dreaded  by  us,  as  an  order,  than  all  things  else, 
beside  the  Bible.  If  it  be  permitted  to  pollute  the 
pure  air  of  Heaven  bv  its  foul  embrace,  for  half  a 
century  longer,  it  will  float  on  every  tea,  on  every 
land,  and  be  the  rallying  sign  for  the  nations  of  the  ' 
t^h.   It  must  be  torn  down;  it  mnit  be  trampled 


44 


ifYstBBXBS  ot  k  ootnrsnT. 


under  foot;  it  must  trail  dishououred  in  the  dust,  or 
oar  oause  is  lost.  In  tokon  of  your  love  for  the  or* 
der,  and  determinatiou  to  uproot  liberty — accursed 
name,  more  cursed  thing ! — tear  it  from  its  support, 
and  trample  it  beneath  your  feet." 

Hastily  obeying  the  mandate,  the  candidate  flung 
the  stripes  and  stars  upon  the  floor,  and,  with  an 
energy  which  declared  the  feelings  of  his  heart, 
ground  them  with  his  heel ;  while,  in  a  yoice  of  thun- 
der, the  Legate  cried — 

'*  Jesuits,  destroy  the  enemy  of  your  order.  A  has 
la  Liberte." 

lake  as  a  herd  of  famished  wolves  rush  upon  their 
prey,  rending  and  tearing  it  in  pieces,  while  growl« 
ing  and  screaming  in  horrible  discord,  they  overturn 
each  other  in  their  efforts  to  gratify  their  rapacity : 
80  rushed  these  Jesuits  upon  the  ensign  of  the  world's 
freedom,  and,  pushing  each  other  aside,  in  frautio 
fury,  they  soon  tore  it  into  a  thousand  fragments, 
while  their  yells  and  shouts  added  to  the  terrible  up- 
roar of  the  scene.  Meanwhile  from  the  choir  came 
forth,  in  strains  of  wild  excitement,  as  thouc^h  the 
downfall  of  man's  liberty  and  the  universal  triumph 
of  Jesuitism  were  already  secured,  and  the  world 
were  fixed  in  eternal  slavery,  civil,  political,  and  re- 
ligious— the  **  Te  Deum  Laudamus  1  insulting  high 
heaven  with  blasphemous  ascriptions  of  praise,  as 
though  it  had  been  instrumental  in  a  destruction  of 
all  that  is  dearest  to  man,  and  of  hi<:;he8t  apprecia- 
tion in  the  sight  of  God  and  of  the  blessed  angela. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Legate  had  received,  from 
an  attendant  priest,  a  gorgeous  robe,  which  miglit 
have  well  become  a  monarch,  and,  when  the  insult- 
ing strains  had  died  away,  and  the  priests,  at  his 
command,  had  resumed  their  places,  he  advanced  to 
the  candidate,  who  stood  near  the  crucifix,  and, 
throwing  the  garment  upon  his  shoulders,  led  him 
to  the  throne,  and,  seating  him  there,  turned  to  tho 
priestei  layiiig— 


|B^- 


\ 


KT8TBBIS8  Ol^  ▲  OONVSNT. 


u 


>rder.  Abas 


«<  Behold,  Jefuiti,  the  Father  General  of  the  order 
of  St.  Ignatius  Loyala,  for  the  United  States  of 
America;  whom  I  declare  daly  appoiQted,  and  in- 
stalled in  that  high  office.  Approach,  and  do  his 
Lordship  reverence." 

So  sayiug,  he  caused  the  priests  to  kneel  around 
the  tbroue,  and  to  repeat  after  him  the  following  sa- 
lutation and  oath  of  alle  j  iaiice :  — 

^*  Hail,  most  worthy  Father  General,  wo  honour 

ttioa!  ' 

**  We  solemnly  ffwear  full  and  explicit  allegiance 
to  you,  as  the  representatiTe  of  the  Father  General 
of  the  order ;  and  to  obey,  without  hesitation,  or 
question,  any  command  that  you  may  give  to  us, 
while  holding  the  said  high  office ;  here  surrendering 
ourselves  body,  soul,  and  spirit, '  as  dead  corpses,'  to 
your  control  and  government,  to  be  directed  and 
used  as  your  judurmeut,  and  that  of  Him  whom  you 
represent,  may  dictate." 

It  was  a  proud  moment  for  Franoois  Jubert;  and 
well  did  it  repay  him  for  the  toil,  anxiety  and  effort, 
which  it  bad  cost  him  to  gain  the  eminent  distinction. 
A  choral  burst  of  melody,  swelling  the  general  joy 
and  congratulation,  closed  the  ceremonial ;  and  the 
priests,  arising  from  their  knees,  and  preceded  by  the 
Legate  and  their  uew  Father  General,  repaired,  un- 
der the  conduct  of  the  Superior,  to  the  refectory, 
where  a  sumptuous  banquet  awaited  them. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Father  General's  affections  for  Sister  Frances  on  the 
wane— RcmoTes  her,  by  instituting  her  to  the  office  of 
Superior  in  the  Convent  of  Annunciation— Her  active 
and  proselyting  efforts  shortly  after  assuming  office— 
Bmily  de  Yers^-The  Superiors  base  conduct  towards 
her. 

Fob  some  months  prior  to  the  OGCurrenees  which 

# 


4« 


SnrSTEBIXS  OV  ▲  OOKTXNVt 


*  htt?e  Just  been  described,  the  Motber  Superior  of  the 
JUmundation,  distant  some  fifty  miles  feom  the  city 
of  New  York,  bad  been  in  very  feeble  health ;  and, 
among  the  first  acts  which  the  Father  General  was 
called  upon  to  perform  after  his  installation  into  of- 
fice, was  to  appoint  a  superior  to  fill  the  vacancy  oo« 
casiooed  by  her  death.  ^ 

He  had  not  lost  his  attachment  to  Sister  Frances, 
but,  with  the  inconstancy  of  the  Jesuit  character ,|he 
had  for  some  time  past  thought  it  no  harm  to  look 
upon  other  pretty  faces  besides  hers ;  and  his  facile 
conscience  saw  no  impropriety  in  intri<]:ue8  with 
other  nuns  than  the  good  sister,  who,  exceedingly 
jealous  of  her  power  over  him,  maintained  a  most 
rigid  watch  upon  his  conduct ;  so  vigilant,  indeed, 
that  there  had  already  occurred  some  interesting 
quarrels  between  them,  which,  however,  were  easily 
made  up,  although  they  left  traces  of  uneasiness  be« 
hind  them  upon  her  mind,  conscious,  as  she  was, 
that  her  personal  attractions  were  not  as  fresh  as 
once  they  were. 

It  was,  therefore,  a  great  relief  to  the  Father  Ge- 
neral to  have  it  in  his  power  to  appoint  Sister  Fran- 
ces to  the  vacancy  ;  as,  while  he  adroitly  persuaded 
her  that  it  was  an  honour  which  he  had  long  been 
anxious  to  see  conferred  upon  her,  and  one  for  which 
she  was  peculiarly  qualified,  he  would  thus  be  re- 
'  moved  from  her  immediate  espionage,  and  be  more 
at  liberty  to  act  as  he  pleased. 

Connected  with  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation, 
was  a  very  larg^e  female  boarding-school,  which,  in 
the  great  dearth  of  the  means  of  education  existing 
at  thjbs  time,  was  very  extensively  patronized  by  Pro- 
testant families.  This  was  represented  to  Sister 
Frances  as  being  a  very  strong  inducement  to  her 
acceptance  of  the  appointment,  since  it  would  afford 
her  ample  opportunity  for  the  protection  of  the  in- 
terests of  the  order,  in  proselyting  to  the  true  faith 
the  children  of  heretics,  who  enould  be  entrusted  to 
ber  care. 


* 


mrsTSfiXEi  OF  ▲  oonvbnt* 


47 


Ambitions  of  power  and  of  pref ennent ;  and  luoli 
an  appointmeut  as  this,  with  iu  oogoate  rank  and 
influence  in  the  order,  having  been  an  object  held 
in  view  in  the  original  compact,  to  which  allusion 
has  already  been  made.  Sister  Frances  felt  a  sacred 
joy  in  its  contemplation ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
ner  mind  misc^ave  her  somewhat  as  to  the  real  mo« 
tives  of  the  Father  General ;  but  when,  in  an  inter* 
view  which  she  had  with  him,  in  her  private  room, 
she  broached  the  subject,  and  be,  with  well -affected 
surprise,  the  most  solemn  protestations,  and  fondest 
caresses,  assured  her  that  she  was  whollv  mista- 
ken ;  she  suffered  herself  to  be  deceived,  aua  accept- 
ed the  office,  as  an  additional  proof  of  the  undimin- 
ished affection  of  her  priest  lover. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks,  she  was  duly  in- 
stalled Mother  Superior  of  the  Convent  of  Annun- 
ciation, and  entered  upon  the  duties  of  her  new  sta- 
tion, with  a  spirit  and  zeal,  as  well  as  exhibition  of 
talents  of  the  hicrhest  order,  which  bespoke  her  adap- 
tation to  it,  and  presaged  a  brilliaut  career  for  her 
in  the  future. 

With  a  tact  rarely  equalled,  and  by  means  of  her 
winning  manners,  and  consummate  skill  in  acoom- 
modating  herself  to  the  peculiarities  of  those  whom 
the  wished  to  control,  she  soon  succeeded  in  engaging 
the  affections  of  the  nuns,  and  especially  in  securing 
those  of  the  young  ladies  who  were  boarding  pupils 
in  the  establishment.  In  the  course  of  five  years  af- 
ter her  installation,  she  was  the  instrument  of  con- 
verting not  less  than  thirty -five  of  the  latter  to  the 
Romish  faith:  twelve  of  whom  Joined  the  order, 
and  became  nuns. 

Amoni;  the  latter  was  a  Miss  Emilie  de  Vere,  a 
young  girl,  some  sixteen  years  of  age,  of  surpas- 
sing beauty,  and  the  only  daughter  of  a  wealthT 
I'lanter  in  Louisiana,  who,  having  lived  in  New  York 
for  some  time  before  he  removed  to  his  southem 
home,  had  selected  the  Convent  of  the  Annnnoia- 


48 


inrSTBBIXB  OF  ▲  CONYBHT* 


ticm,  M  a  suitable  place  for  the  edtioation  of  the 
obUd,  because  of  its  remoteness  from  the  city.  Mr. 
De  Vere  was  descended  from  Protestant  parentage, 
as  was  his  wife,  but  thought  well  of  the  Catholics, 
and  apprehended  no  danger  in  thus  placing  his 
daughter  in  their  hnnds,  while  he  went  to  his  far- 
off  home,  not  expecting  to  see  her  again  for  some 
three  years.  Great  was  the  self-gratulation  of  the 
Mother  Superior,  when  the  rich  heiress  joined  the 
Catholic  church,  but  g^reator  still  when  she  wore  the 
habit  of  a  nun,  and  bore  the  imme  of  Sister  Theresa, 
two  years  before  the  time  of  which  we  are  now  writ- 
ing. 

In  the  course  of  one  of  his  somewhat  frequent 
Tisits  to  the  Convent,— dnrinsr  which  the  Mother 
Superior  was  always  careful  to  keep,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, out  of  sisrht,  nil  those  nuns  who  had  any  pre- 
tensions to  ]iersnnal  attractinns, — the  Father  Gener- 
al happened  to  meet  Sister  Theresa  in  one  of  the  pas- 
sages; and,  immediately  recognising  her  as  one 
whose  great  beauty  had  strongly  attracted  his  no- 
tice, on  the  occasion  of  her  taking  the  religious  vows, 
he  entered  into  conversation  with  her ;  and,  while 
holding  her  hand  in  his,  and  giving  her  some  father- 
ly advice,  the  Mother  Superior,  having  occasion  to 
pass  that  way,  unseen  by  them,  had  witnessed  a  por- 
tion of  the  interview,  and  imagined  that  she  saw 
enough  to  warrant  a  jealous  feeling  on  her  part,  and 
to  determine  her  to  prevent  any  further  occurrence 
of  a  similar  sort.  DisBerobling  her  true  feelings, 
however,  she  met  the  Father  General,  in  half  an  hour 
afterwards,  with  a  brow  as  placid  as  if  nothing  had 
occurred  to  disturb  the  quiet  current  of  her  emotions. 
To  gratify  her  vindictiveness,  nevertheless,  as  she 
dared  not  reproach  the  General,  she  degraded  the 
poor  nun,  for  a  mouth,  to  servile  work  in  the  kitch- 
en, without  assigning  to  her  any  other  reason  for  so 
doing,  than  her  own  will. 


IC1l8TBBI£8  of  A  OONVEXfT* 


49 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Pftther  GeneraVs  vlf^lt  to  the  conyent— Hit  Intereit  for 
Sister  Theresa— The  deformed  nun  ~  Proposes  a  meeting 
at  midnizht  with  Sister  Theresa— The  Mother  8nperior»i 
kind  entertainment  of  the  Father  General  in  the  private 
parlour— Her  chagrin  at  his  abruptly  leavin^r  her— Sus- 
pit-i^n— Sister  Theresa's  sorrow  and  anxiety  at  receiv- 
uip  the  FatJier*8  note— Her  trepidation  on  meeting  the 
Father  Oeneml— He  reas'^ures  her— His  wily  6trata^em8 
to  accomplish  his  base  object— A  wolf  in  sheep's  cloth- 
ing. * 

The  Father  General  aprain  visited  the  convent,  in 
about  six  weeks  after  this  unpleasant  occurrence ; 
and,  as  he  approached  the  great  iron  pate,  the  image 
of  the  beautiful  nun  arose  to  his  mind,  and  he  de- 
termined, if  possible,  to  learn  something  more  about 
her;  but,  aware  of  the  sensitiveness  of  the  Mother 
Superior,  he  knew  that  his  inquiries  must  be  made 
with  great  caution. 

There  was,  in  the  convent,  a  deformed  nun,  who, 
because  of  a  grudge  which  she  bore  to  Mother  Fran- 
ces, and  of  the  uniform  kindness  with  which  the 
General  had  treated  her,  had,  on  more  than  one  oc- 
casion, been  of  service  to  him  in  his  intrigues  in  the 
convent.  He  determined  to  make  use  of  her  on  this 
occasion. 

Accordingly,  seizing  a  favourable  moment,  he  took 
Sister  Martina  aside,  and  asked  her  who  the  beauti- 
ful nun  was.  The  communicative  sister  answered 
his  question,  and  said  so  much  about  her,  and  the 
cruel  treatment  which  she  had  recently  received  at 
the  hands  of  the  Mother  Superior,  for  she  knew  not 
what  offence,  as  she  affirmed,  as  greatly  to  enlist  his 
feelings  in  behalf  of  Sister  Theresa.  Hastily  writing 
a  few  words  upon  a  piece  of  paper,  which  he  took 
from  his  pocket-book,  he  handed  it  to  the  nun ;  di« 


«» 


mrsxBBxii  ov  ▲  ooinrsHT* 


noting  her  to  ffiTO  it  to  Sitter  Thereea,  and  to  be 
dimeet  about  the  matter,  taying  that  he  would  ie« 
ward  her  handaomeljr*  if  the  did  not  betray  his 
tmet.  Then  returuiug  into  the  parlour,  where  he 
had  left  the  Superior,  he  chatted  gaily  with  her  un- 
til they  were  called  into  the  refectory  to  tea.  While 
seated  at  the  table,  the  nuns  and  boarden  all  present, 
both  the  Father  General  aud  the  Mother  Superior 
were  models  of  propriety  and  decorum ;  and  the  for- 
mer, especially,  was  careful  not  to  cast  even  a  look 
which  could  serve  to  excite  any  suspicion  in  the 
mind  of  the  Superior,  while  their  juniors  were  great 
ly  edified  by  their  pious  conversation  coucerning 
•ome  of  the  saints,  and  the  miracles  that  had  been 
wrought  by  them. 

Arising  from  the  table,  the  Mother  Frances  invit- 
ed the  General  to  her  private  parlour,  the  room  in 
which  nha  usually  entertained  him,  when  he  visit- 
ed the  convent.  This  was  one  of  a  suite  cf  rooms, 
three  in  number,  set  apart  for  her  own  special  use, 
and  never  intruded  upon  save  by  her  owu  invitation 
or  permission : — all  of  these,  save  the  last,  opened 
Oipon  the  great  passage  which  ran  through  the 
house,  on  the  second  floor.  The  first  of  this  suite 
was  furnished  as  a  private  parlour,  in  very  neat  and 
elegant  taste.  Communicating  with  this,  by  means 
of  a  sliding  pannel,  so  ingeniously  contrived  as  to 
be  known  to  but  few  of  the  inmates  of  the  family. 
was  a  beautiful  bed-chamber,  most  tastefully  fitted 
up ;  and  beyond  this,  and  accessible  only  from  this 
room,  was  a  smaller  apartment,  arranged  as  an  ora- 
tory, having  a  mahogany  reading  desk,  a  magnificent 
ebony  crucifix,  an  escritoire  inlaid  with  mother  of 
pearl^  and  some  hanging  shelves,  upon  which  weie 
arranged  a  number  of  elegantly-bound  volumes-^ 
the  entire  suite  of  rooms  was  handsomely  carpeted, 
and  abounded  with  indications  of  female  t&dQ  and 
refinement. 

Having  seated  themselves  upon  a  sofa  placed  at 
one  side  of  the  private  parlor,  and  conversed  fof 


SmUBBIES  OF  ▲  OONVBirTt 


SI 


lome  time  upon  ^neral  subjeots,  the  Superior  aroM^ 
and,  taking  from  a  small  sideboard  a  nobly  eat  de« 
caoter  of  old  wiue,  with  some  glasos,  and  a  plate  of 
delicious  spided  oakes,  which  she  had  prepaied  with 
her  own  bauds,  she  placed  these  upon  a  table  which 
stood  in  front  of  the  sofa,  and  invited  the  General 
to  partake  of  them,  and  to  join  her  in  a  same  at 
chess,  of  which  she  knew  he  was  passionately  fond, 
aud  for  which  she  had  arranged  the  materiala 
before  him. 

They  thus  occupied  themselves  until  the  convent 
clock  tolled  the  hour  of  eleven,  when  the  Father 
General,  pleading  a  headache,  and  affectionately  as 
well  as  most  gracefully  saluting  the  Mother  Supe« 
rior,  asked  leave  to  retire  to  his  own  apartment, 
which  was  situated  on  the  first  floor,  and  ele^^antly 
furaished.  This  the  latter  rather  ungraciously 
granted,  with  an  air  which  showed  that  she  was 
disappointed  ;  and  the  priest  retired. 

Meanwhile,  the  note  had  been  handed  to  Sister 
Theresa,  by  the  deformed  nun,  and  had  greatly  ex- 
cited her  mind  by  its  contents. 

<*  Meet  me  in  the  garden,  near  the  plum  tree, 
alone,  at  midnight :"— she  repeated,  for  the  twen« 
tieth  time,  as  she  sat  in  her  room,  with  the  note  in 
her  hand,  thinking  over  its  contents. 

**  What  can  he  mean  P"  And  then,  as  the  thought 
that  his  intentions  towards  her  might  be  those  of 
evil  flashed  across  her  mind,  she  burst  into  tears,  ex- 
claiming— 

"  What  have  I  done  or  said,  that  could  lead  him 
to  think  so  meanly  of  me  ?" 

'*  Have  I  not  spumed  the  base  overtures  of  my 
own  confessor.  Father  Jerome  P" 

"Gracious  heaven,  into  what  hands  havel  fallen  P" 

Here  a  sense  of  her  helpless  condition,  as  a  poor, 
fnendless,  and  unprotected  nun,  was  forced  upon 
her  mmd,  with  such  terrible  conviction,  that  the  be* 
Jjn^jfea^ully  agitated ;  and  throwing  herself  upon 
the  bed,  she  wept  as  if  her  very  heart  woidd  bi^du 


1 1 


52 


ICTSTBBXBS  OV  i.  COKVXirr. 


<'  O  that  I  had  known  all  this,"  she  said,  her  Toice 
broken  by  sobs—**  before  I  took  the  tows  1— How 
sadly  have  I  been  deceived !'' 

*'  O,  what  shall  I  do  1*  Where  shall  I  hide  myself? 
My  honour,  my  life,  is  hunted  b)r  those  who  made 
me  TOW  eternal  chastity  and  purity  !'* 

'*  But  recently  I  was  degraded  to  the  condition  of 
a  menial,  I  kuownot  why ;  and  now  this  priest,  as 
U  he  were  master  of  an  eastern  harem,  and  I  bis 
Georgian  slave,  bids  me  meet  him  alone  in  the  gar* 
den  at  midnight !    Qood  Gbd,  what  does  this  meau  F" 

**  O  that  I  were  once  more  within  reach  of  my  dear 
father !  how  gladly  would  I  fly  to  him  for  protection !" 

She  again  burst  into  tears,  and  wept  most  bitter- 
ly :  then,  as  a  sudden  thought  occurred  to  her  miud, 
she  started  up,  exclaiming — 

**  It  may  be  so.  Perhaps  Sister  Martina  may  have 
intimated  to  him  that  I  have  been  badly  treated, 
and,  in  order  to  know  all  about  it,  without  the  dan- 
ger of  being  interrupted  by  the  Mother  Superior,  or 
m  order  to  keep  her  from  knowing  that  he  had  spokeo 
to  me  on  the  subject,  he  may  have  selected  this  time 
and  place  with  a  view  to  secresy.    It  must  be  so." 

The  more  she  thought  about  the  matter,  the  r.ore 
fully  convinced  she  became  that  this  was  the  true 
state  of  the  case ;  and  while  she  felt  grateful  to  the 
good  Father,  as  she  now  called  him,  when  she  re* 
garded  him  as  intending  to  befriend  her,  she  re- 
proached herself  for  having  thought  so  ungeuerous- 
ty  of  him.  The  idea  of  being  revenged  on  the  Mo- 
ther Superior,  dried  up  her  tears ;  and  she  determin- 
ed to  keep  the  appointment. 

It  now  wanted  but  a  few  minutes  to  twelve;  and, 
wrapping  herself  up  in  a  heavy  shawl,  to  guard 
against  the  chilly  midnight  air,  and,  with  her  heart 
beating  wildly  within  her  breast,  she  left  her  room, 
and  noiselessly  creeping  down  the  great  stairway, 
pausing  at  almost  every  step,  as  she  fancied  that 
•ome  one  had  diseovered  her ;  while  she  started  at 


1IT81X&11S8  Of  A  oomrENV. 


08 


the  very  pontiugs  of  Ler  owu  bosom,  she  reached  the 
iack  door  of  the  hall ;  where,  fiudiii<;  the  key  in  the 
lock,  she  turued  it  with  great  caution,  and  then, 
elowly  opening  one  side  of  the  folding  leaves,  so  at 
to  avoid  any  creakiuj;  which  might  give  notice  of 
her  movements,  and  looking  out  intently  to  see  if 
any  one  was  passing  about,  she  went  forth,  quietly 
drawing  the  aoor  to  behind  her,  and,  with  quick  and 
silent  step,  hastened  to  the  garden.  It  was  a  moon* 
light  night,  but  hazy  and  somewhat  cloudy. 

On  arriving  at  the  spot  which  had  been  designat- 
ed in  the  note,  she  was  surprised  to  find  that  there 
was  no  one  there  but  herself ;  and  she  was  about  to 
conclude  that  she  was  the  victim  of  some  treacher- 
ous  plot,  when  she  beheld  the  Father  General  rapid- 
ly approaching  her.  On  reaching  her,  he  extended 
his  hand,  in  the  kindest  manner,  saying,  as  he  did  so : 

**  Thanks,  Sister  Theresa,  for  this  evidence  of  your 
confidence  in  your  Father  General.  I  was  half  afraid 
that  you  would  not  meet  me  here,  at  this  lonely 
hour ;  and  that  I  should  be  deprived  of  the  opportu- 
nity of  doing  you  a  kindness.  But,"  added  he, 
perceiving  that  she  trembled  as  he  spoke  to  her, 
**  fear  not,  my  child ;  I  mean  you  no  harm ;  but  will 
protect  you  from  all  injury  and  insult." 

Reassured  by  these  words,  which  she  believed  to 
be  sincere ;  and  feeling  ashamed  of  her  previous  mis- 
givings with  regard  to  the  Father's  intentions,  which 
now  seemed  to  be  so  wholly  unfounded,  the  nun 
thanked  him  for  hit  kind  consideration,  and  said — 

**  I  have  every  confidence  in  the  honour  of  the  Fa* 
ther  General,  and  cannot  suppose  that  he  would  be- 
tray that  confidence." 

"Never,"  replied  the  wily  Jesuit,  who  quickly 
perceived  the  change  that  had  been  wrought  in  the 
feeliugs  of  the  trusting  girl ;  for  she  no  longer  trem- 
bled, nor  soemed  disposed,  as  at  first,  to  withdraw 
her  hand  from  his.  , 

*"  I  have  heard/'  h%  oontbuedi  ^no  matter  how 


«4 


htstsbum  ov  k  ooMviuif. 


6or  from  whom,  of  the  cruel  oondact  of  the  Saperir.r 
towards  you,  reoeotlv ;  and  I  with  you  to  tell  me,  if 
you  can,  why  she  did  so  P" 

*'  I  kDOw  not,"  replied  Sister  Theresa.  **  I  haro 
•ndeaToured  faithfully  to  perform  every  knowu 
duty,  and  to  comply,  as  far  as  I  could,  with  every 
rale  of  the  institution.  I  have  always  treated  the 
Mother  Superior  with  marked  respect ;  reudering 
instant  obedience  to  her  everv  command ;  and  I  can- 
not imagine  why  she  suddenly,  and  without  assign- 
ing any  reason  whatever  for  it,  iDflicted  so  severe  a 
punishment  upon  me,  and  degraded  me  so  iu  the 
eyes  of  the  whole  convent.  Had  the  punish meut 
teen  continued  for  a  short  time  longer,  I  should  have 
been  seriously  ill,  for  my  health  is  but  delicate  at  the 
best." 

**  When  did  she  order  you  to  this  menial  service  F" 
asked  the  Father,  eagerly. 

*'  On  the  verv  day  that  you  left  the  convent,  on 
your  last  visit  before  the  present,"  replied  the  nun. 

**  I  see  it  all,"  muttered  the  priest,  as  if  commun- 
ing with  bis  own  thoughts ;  '*  it  is  as  plain  as  it  can 
be.  Poor  fool,  to  think  that  I  belong  to  her,  soul 
and  body,  and  that  I  cannot  be  civil  to  a  pretty  nun, 
but  that  instantly,  as  soon  as  mv  back  is  turned, 
the  poor  nun  must  be  a  victim  of  her  jealousy  and 
wratn.  Pshaw !"  he  continued,  as  if  still  talking  to 
himself;  **  she  shall  suffer  for  this."  Then,  seem- 
ing to  recollect  himself,  he  said  to  Sister  Theresa. 

^*  Never  mind.  I  am  your  friend  and  protector. 
I  have  the  right  and  the  power  to  shield  yon  from 
oppression  and  from  insult ;  and,  should  your  feel- 
ings ever  be  outraged  again,  I  require  you  to  let  me 
know  it  at  once,  that  I  may  take  the  necessary  steps 
to  redress  the  wrong.  Meanwhile,  say  nothing,  but 
leave  this  matter  in  my  hands.'* 

'*  I  know  not  how  sufficiently  to  thank  you  for 
your  kindness,"  responded  the  nun ;  her  heart  real); 
touched  by  wbi^t  she  beUofod  to  bo  the  siDoere 


mrsnotns  op  a  oownat. 


U 


Denial  servioe  ?" 


frieudship  of  the  Father  General,  and  fallj  prepar- 
ed to  feel  all  its  force,  hj  the  lonely  life  that  she  DAd 
led— a  life  BO  full  of  disappoiutment  an  to  the  ex- 
pectations  which  the  had  formed  when  entering  on 
the  religious  duties  of  a  nun— and,  with  the  teart 
standing  upon  her  cheek,  she  continued,  **  but  if  you 
will  show  me  how  I  may  eyince  my  gratitude,  I  will 
most  cheerfully  do  it." 

^  Tou  can  show  your  gratitude.  Sister  Theresa,  by 
loving  me,"  replied  the  priest,  in  low  and  thrillinff 
tones,  gently  putting  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and 
drawing  ber  to  him,  on  nretence,  as  he  said,  of  pro* 
tecting  her  from  the  cool  night  air ;  but,  as  he  per- 
ceived that  she  shrank  from  his  embrace,  he  added, 

**  Fear  not,  mv  child  ;  I  love  you  too  well  to  mean 
you  any  harm. 

He  then  entered  into  a  lengthy  conversation  with 
ber,  touching  ber  studies,  her.  employments,  and 
what  not  that  was  likely  to  interest  her  mind,  and 
inspire  her  with  confidence;  and  then,  telling  her  it 
was  time  that  they  should  return  to  the  house,  he 
inquired  the  number  of  ber  room,  and  its  position  in 
the  building ;  saying  to  her  that,  on  the  following 
night,  he  would  visit  her  there,  in  order  to  instruct 
ber  bow  to  spend  her  time  in  the  future,  so  as  to 
prepare  herself  to  occupy  the  position  of  Mother 
Duperior,  in  ber  own  turn,  when  she  should  be  a  lit« 
tie  older  and  more  experienced. 

Meanwhile,  the  wily  priest  kept  his  arm  around 
Sister  Theresa,  and,  walking  thus  to  the  house,  he 
gave  ber  what  he  called  the  kiss  of  peace,  at  part- 
ing, and  each  sought  their  own  room;  the  former 
feeling  assured  that  ho  had  gained  a  victory ;  the 
latter,  as  she  bad  never  done  before  in  all  her  life ; 
her  soul  a  sea  of  tumultuous  emotion.  The  Fa- 
ther General  soon  fell  asleep,  and  dreamed  of  beau- 
Wul  nuns  and  bowers  of  roses ;  the  unhappy  Sister 
Ihereia  laid  awake  for  houre,  tossing  restlesdj  upon 
heroouoh.  She  felt  that  she  wm  caught  in  tbtooiis 


69 


srrsTisBifiS  of  a  convkwt. 


of  the  priest,  and  that  it  was  as  useless  for  her  to 
Btru^fi^le  a^aiust  what  seemed  to  be  her  inevit  ,h!e 
destiny,  as  for  the  poor  fly,  caught  in  thp  meshes  of 
the  spider's  web.  to  attempt  to  escnpe  its  inipemlinj? 
fate.  She  felt  that  she  was  powtrlpss  in  the  li.iuds 
^f  an  all-powerful  foe  ;   and,  thou^  h  she  deeply  re- 

fretted  having  kept  the  appointment,  and  met  the 
*ather  in  the  {garden,  yet,  strange  to  say,  she  chd  not 
after  all  wish  to  avoid  the  meeting  on  the  foUowiug 
night.  In  truth,  the  arch  magician  had  infused  his 
poison  into  her  young  soul ;  and  his  foul  necromancy 
nad  thrown  a  spell  upon  her,  which  she  no  longer 
desired,  or  had  the  strength,  to  break.  She  was 
doomed,  and  yet  she  trembled  not ;  she  was  in  cha,in8, 
and  still  she  hugged  those  chains  to  her  breast,  and 
seemed  to  delight  in  wearing  them.  The  priest  had 
silenced  her  monitory  fears ;  had  thrown  her  off  her 
guard  ;  had  awakened  feelings  of  gratitude,  wliich 
were  easily  transmuted  to  otliers  of  a  warmer  na- 
ture; and  the  hellish  work  was  well  ni^h  completed 
—the  consummation  waited  but  for  the  occasion. 

Oh,  ye  self-annointed,  self-exalted  priests,  that 
put  yourselves  **  above  all  that  is  called  God,  or  that 
18  worshipped;"  "sitting  in  the  temple  of  God, 
showing  yourselves  that  ye  are  God  ;*'  *'  whose  com- 
ing is  after  the  working  of  Satan,  with  all  power, 
and  signs,  and  lying  wonders,  and  with  all  deceiv- 
ableness  of  unrighteousness ;"  ye  "  false  prophets;" 
ye  "  ravening  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  ;"  ye  "  bliud 
guides,"  that  "  compass  sea  and  land  to  make  one 
proselyte ;  and,  when  he  is  made,  ye  make  him  two- 
fold more  the  child  of  hell  than  yourselves ;"  ye 
smooth-faced  hypocrites  that  devour  virgin  inno- 
oenoe,  "  and,  for  a  pretence,  make  long  prayers;"  ye  .j 
priests,  that  work  your  damning  deeds,  in  the  dark 
shrouding  of  the  midnight  hour;  and  then,  with 
unblushing  countenance,  go  forth  in  broad  day,  and 
look  honesty  in  th>:^  eye ;  when  the  dispartiug  veil  of 
ttemity  shall  be  diawn  asida,  and  the  judgment 


HrrSTEBIES  OF  A  OONVEST. 


57 


trump  shall  sammon  you  to  stand  before  the  drea^ 
bar  of  Him  whose  searching  gaze  now  penetrates 
your  convent  walls,  your  monastic  cells,  your  dark 
hiding-holes,  where  works  "  themystery  of  iniquity," 
and  reads  all  your  damnable  crimes  as  thougn  they 
stood  emblazoned  in  the  face  of  the  noontide  sun  ; 
ah  !  how  will  ye  (juail  then  !  how  will  ye  seek  to  es« 
cape  the  fearful  inspection  of  that  hour,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  a  congregated  universe,  and  unbidden  try 
to  hide  yourselves,  and  your  hellish  deeds,  in  the 
depths  of  eternal  night !  But  know,  **  ye  serpents, 
ye  generation  of  vipers,  ye  cannot  escape  the  dam- 
nation of  hell ;"  **  the  Lord  shall  consume  you  with 
the  spirit  of  his  mouth,  and  shall  destroy  you  with 
the  brightness  of  his  coming."  Babylon  '*  shall  be 
utterly  burned  with  fire ;  for  strong  is  the  Lord  God 
who  judgeth  her." 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

Interregnum— The  family  of  Mr.  Moreton— Discussion  on 
the  education  given  in  boarding-schools. 

The  reader  must  now  suffer  himself  to  be  carried 
forward  over  an  interval  of  three  years,  and  be  pre- 
sented to  an  interesting  family  circle,  whose  mem- 
bers will  have  a  large  share  in  the  scenes  of  the  fol- 
lowing pages. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moreton  were  the  parents  of  an  in- 
teresting family,  consisting  of  two  sons  and  three 

daughters,  living  in  the  town  of ,  in  the  state  of 

Pennsylvania,  about  eighty  miles  from  the  city  of 
New  York. 

Mary,  the  eldest  of  the  five  children,  was  a  hand- 
some brunette,  just  entered  into  her  seventeenth 
year,  and  had  been  wholly  educated  in  her  native 

•]r"i  'f "J^*»  *^«  next  in  age,  was  fourteen,  and 
gmed  with  strong  natural  powers  of  mind,  but  not 

224  P 


58 


MTSTKBIES  OF  A  COJrVTINT. 


I'tt 


as  haudsomd  aa  her  sister  Mary.  Mrs.  Moreton  waa 
a  ladf  of  azcelleut  Judgment  and  refined  manners, 
but,  like  her  husband, — who  was  a  merchant,  in  very 
comfortable  circumstances —not  a  member  of  any 
church.  Haying  received  a  better  education  than 
her  companion,  she  had,  in  matters  of  this  sort,  ao- 
quired  considerable  influence  over  him ;  while,  with 
tne  sagacity  and  prudence  of  a  business  man,  he 
looked  narrowly  to  the  expenses,  and  was,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  liable  to  the  charge  of  penuriousness; 
Tet  he  dearly  loyed  his  family,  and  was  willing  to 
incur  any  reasonable  outlaj^,  for  anything  he  thought 
would  promote  their  happiness,  or  secure  their  ad- 
vancement in  life. 

One  winter  eyening,  after  tea,  when  the  young 
children  had  been  sent  to  the  nursery,  Mary  having 
gone  to  a  party  at  a  neighbour's,  and  Julia  being 
seated  at  a  table  by  herself,  engaged  in  preparing 
her  lessons  for  the  next  day,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moreton 
were  sitting  in  their  snug  back  parlour,  by  a  blazing 
fire,  talking  over  domestic  matters,  when  the  follow- 
ing conversation  occurred  between  them : 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Moreton,  that  we  ought  to  send  Ju- 
lia to  a  good  hoarding  school.  She  is  fast  growing 
vp  to  womanhood ;  her  teachers  here  cannot  in- 
struct her  much  further;  and,  besides,  there  are 
many  advantages  to  be  enjoyed  at  such  a  school, 
which  she  cannot  possibly  have  at  home." 

"  Why  so  P  Have  we  not  good  teachers  in  our 
town,  as  good  as  an v  where  else  P  I  am  sure  that 
Mr.  Treadwell  has  advanced  Julia  very  rapidly ;  and 
I  heard  you  tell  Mrs.  Winslow,  the  other  day,  that 
■he  had  learned  more,  in  the  same  length  of  time, 
under  his  instruction,  than  from  any  other  teacher 
to  whom  she  had  ever  been  sent." 

"  Very  true,  my  dear,  and  yet  1  discover  that  Ju- 
lia is  greatly  interrupted  in  her  studies,  by  the  com- 
panv  which  hsr  sister  receives ;  and  when  visiton 
•r9Ui  Ilicdrawiiig-ioMa  with  Mary,  Jalisisemi  to 


tftSTlEBIBS  09  A  OOllVEllt. 


JO 


think  it  very  hard,  indeed,  that  she  must  sit  up  stairsf 
and  study.  I  find,  too,  that  her  head  is  full  of  dress, 
and  jewellery,  and  parties,  and  beaux,  young  as  she 
is ;  and,  when  she  passes  through  the  streets  on  her 
way  to. school,  she  sees  a  great  deal  to  divert  her 
mind  from  her  books.  Besides,  these  mixed  schools 
may  do  well  enough  for  younger  children,  but  Julia 
is  too  old  to  go  any  longer  to  one  where  boys  and 
girls  are  taught  together.  In  short,  I  think  it  high 
time  that  she  should  be  sent  from  home,  to  a  good 
boarding  school,  for  at  least  two  years." 

**Well,  but  I  do  not  see  what  you  would  gain*  by 
sending  her  to  such  a  school,  even  on  your  own 
showing.  Will  she  not  be  as  fond  of  dress  there  as 
here,  and  will  she  not  find  quite  as  much  to  distract 
her  mind  from  study  ?" 

"  Certainly  not.      In  a  well-regulated  boarding 
school,  every  thing  is  taken  care  of,  and  provided 
for,  even  to  the  minutest  details.    Extravagance  in 
dress,  and  fondness  of  display,  are  discouraged  as 
much  as  possible ;  and,  indeed,  there  are  no  incentives 
or  opportunities  for  either,  since  the  young  ladies 
are  seldom  seen  upon  the  streets,  and  the  vii#8  of 
young  men  are  forbidden :  while,  on  the  other  hand/ 
by  means  of  a  systematic  arrangement  of  time-^- 
useful  occupation  being  found  for  every  hour ; — th%' 
presence  of  teachers  of  the  very  best  abilities,  who 
have  adopted  the  business  as  a  profession,  and  not 
as  a  merely  temporary  means  of  support ;  and  the 
stimulus  to  study  which  is  furnished  by  the  compe- 
tition of  a  number  of  schoolmates,  for  the  honours 
of  the  institution,  a  healthful  ambition  is  excited, 
and  habits  are  formed,  which  not  only  greatly  faci- 
litate the  acquirements  of  a  thorough  educaUon,  but 
are  of  essential  service  in  after  days,  when  school- 
books  are  laid  aside,  and  the  sterner  duties  of  life 
make  hourly  demands  upon  onr  industry,  patienoe, 
and  fortitude.'' 
''And  itill  it  seems  to  me  that,  If  the  same  v;fiA>nk 


i 


k 


i 


f 


I' 


■^; 


I!!ll 


«0 


UkffTJBKXBS  09  A  OOHt^Htf, 


,jmd  discipline  were  established  at  home,  which  yon 
Bay  are  to  be  met  with  in  these  boardiug  schools,  aud 
whose  importance  I  readily  admit,  the  same  results 
mightbe  secured,  and  certainly  at  much  less  expense/' 
"  Impossible,  Mr.  Moreton  I  how  can  I,  ia  the 
midst  of  home  distractions,  and  with  such  a  family 
as  I  have,  adopt  any  such  course  P  The  house  is  to 
be  kept ;  the  younger  children  are  to  be  attended 
to ;  company  to  be  entertained ;  visits  to  be  return- 
ed ;  Mary  requires  a  large  share  of  my  time  aud 
care  ;  for  her  education,  conducted  entirely  at  home, 
is  exceedingly  defective ;  and  this  reminds  me  of  one 
most  important  advantage  that  is  derived  from  these 
Bohools, — the  early  formation  of  habits  of  self-relU 
arice.  Now,  you  know  what  a  baby  Mary  is ;  and 
yet  she  is  seventeen.  She  cannot  move  without  me. 
All  day  long  it  is,  *  Ma,  show  me  how  to  do  this  ;'— 
'  Ma,  do  go  to  such  a  place  with  me,  or  out  shop- 

Sing;' — *Ma,  will  you  fix  my  hair,  or  adjust  my 
ress  r — *  Ma,  will  you  just  go  into  the  parlour  with 
me  to  see  my  company  r  I  cannot  go  alone.'  I  do 
verily  believe  that  it  would  be  the  same  thiug  if  she 
were  married,  and  that  she  would  not  be  willing  to 

So  to  housekeeping  without  me.  It  is  not  so  with 
[iss  Bamsey,  or  Miss  Paterson,  who  were  both 
playmates  of  Mary's,  when  they  were  children,  and 
you  know  that  they  were  educated  at  boardiug  schools. 
They  were  amiable,  modest,  and  accomplished  young 
ladies;  and  yet  they  make  their  own  dresses ;  assist 
their  mother  in  keeping  house  ;  are  handy  at  almost 
everv  thing;  are  always  self-possessed  and  agreeable 
in  their  manners ;  and,  for  all  I  can  see,  love  their 
parents  just  as  fondly  as  Mary  does  hers ;  while  they 
are  not  dependent  upon  their  mammas,  as  she  is  upou 
me.  I  do  not  know  what  Mary  would  do  if  I  were 
to  be  taken  away  from  her,  or  what  she  will  do 
when  she  it  married." 


'*  Well,  my  dear,  I  see  yon  have  thought  a  _ 
deal  mora  about  these  fhmgs  than  I  have;  andl 


lETSTBBIBS  OT  A  CONVSNT* 


61 


am  therefore  willing  to  try  the  experiment,  next 
spring,  for  one  session.  If  the  result  is  satisfactory, 
we  will  continue  Julia  at  some  good  boarding-school 
until  she  graduates ;  if  not,  she  must  come  home, 
and  finish  her  education  here." 

"  But,  Mr.  Morton,  believe  me,  that  is  not  the  wav 
to  try  the  experiment,  as  you  call  it ;  it  does  not  af- 
ford time  enough  to  do  the  matter  justice;  and  I 
really  believe  that  one  session  only  would  be  both 
time  and  money  thrown  away.  Send  her  with  the 
expectation  of  continuing  for  one  year,  or  not  at  all." 

"  Be  it  so,  then ;  but  where  shall  we  send  her  P 
Have  you  made  choice  of  any  school,  in  your  mind  P' 

**  I  have  been  thinking  of  two  schools  ;  but  really 
80  far  as  I  have  any  means  of  judging,  there  ap- 
pears to  be  but  little,  if  any,  difference  between 
them.  Both  have  their  ministers  of  high  standing, 
who  have  employed,  as  assistants,  the  best  teachers, 
I  am  told,  within  their  reach  ;  and  have  equal  faci- 
lities, I  suppose,  for  the  education  of  those  who  may 
be  sent  to  them.  The  oue  is  at  Philadelphia,  and  the 
other  near  New  York ;  and,  as  the  former  is  rather 
more  couvenieut  for  us,  as  well  as  cheaper  than  the 
other,  I  should  prefer  it :— besides,  it  is  in  our  owa 
State." 

**  Ah !— these  Protestant  schools  are  too  expensive 
for  me,  my  dear  ;  I  cannot  afford  to  send  Julia  to 
oue  of  them.  Why  not  send  her  to  oue  of  the  Ca- 
tholic schools?" 

*'  Mr.  Morton,  you  astonish  me  I— Send  her  to  a 
Catholic  school !  Would  you  have  our  Julia  to  be 
made  a  Catholic  P" 

**  And  why,  pray,  should  that  be  the  result  P  I  do 
not  see  that  it  follows,  as  a  necessary  result." 

'*  It  may  not  as  a  necessary  result,  but  it  appears 
to  me  to  be  a  verv  natural  one.  I  must  confess  that 
my  Protestant  education  inclines  me  to  look  upon 
Bomish  institutions  with  a  very  suspicious  eye ;  and 
my  obsenatioii  in  life  hi^  t>ut  ooufirined  m^  preji^* 


ifi 


h 


*  i'l 


6» 


KTCmBBIES  OV  ▲  OOKTBNT. 


li 


dioe  on  this  subject,  if  preludioe  it  oan  be  properly 
termed.    Did  not  Miss  Williams,  after  having  been 
at  a  Catholic  school  for  about  a  year^  write  home  to 
her  mother,  for  permission  to  be  baptized  by  a  priest, 
and  join  the  church  ?    And  you  recollect  that  Miss 
Beaumont,  when  at  our  house,  on  her  way  to  the 
nunnery  school,  where  she  had  been  for  a  year  or 
two,  told  you  that  she  believed  the  Boman  Catholic 
to  be  the  ouly  true  reliafiou  ;  givin^r  as  her  reason 
that  it  was  more  probable  that  the  translation  of  the 
Bible,  which  was  made  by  the  Pope  and  his  Cardi« 
nals,  should  be  truer  than  that  made  by  one  man, 
King  James  of  England ;  and  when  you  asked  her 
where  she  had  got  that  precious  piece  of  iuforma- 
tion,  she  replied  that  sister  Agatha  had  told  her  so. 
And  yet  the  parents  of  both  these  young  ladies  are 
strict  Protestants,  and  members  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church.      You,  doubtless,  remember,  too,  to  have 
heard,  also,  of  a  young  laiy,  whose  name  I  do  not 
recollect,  but  who  was  the  daughter  of  Protestant 
parents,  and  who,  having  graduated  at  a  Catholic 
'^ohool,  determined  to  become  a  uun,  and  refused  to 
leave  the  institution,  even  to  pay  a  farewell  visit  to 
her  friends,  before  separating  herself  for  ever  from 
them.    Indeed  I  have  never  conversed  with  Protes* 
tants  who  had  been  educated  by  Catholic  teachers, 
that  would  suffer  one  word  to  be  said,  in  their  hear- 
ing, in  di8para<;emeut  of  that  church.    Now  all  this 
confirms  me  in  the  fear  that,  if  our  dau^rhter  should 
be  sent  to  a  Catholic  school,  she  will  either  become 
a  member  of  that  faith,  or  be  so  weakened  in  her 
attachment  to  her  own,  as  seriouslv  to  be  injured  by 
it,  if«  indeed,  the  result  do  not  tend  to  infidelity.'' 

**  Well,  my  dear  you  are  certainly  very  eloquent 
on  the  subject,  and  yet  you  have  failed  to  convince 
me  that  your  fears  have  any  other  foundation  than 
prejudice;  and  while,  if  I  thought  there  was  any 
real  danger,  I  should  be  quite  as  unwilling  as  your- 
1^  to  exjK)8e  Julia  to  it«  {  ag^  eouyiuced|  J,  muft 


ICTSTBBXBS  OV  JL  OOVYBKT. 


ea 


•y  one  man, 


give  my  preference  to  that  school  which  costs  the 
lea8t,_proYided  the  educational  advantages  are  equal, 
and  I  presume  they  are.  I  therefore  prefer  that 
Julia  should  go  to  the  nunnery  school." 

'*  It  does  seem  to  me,  Mr.  Moreton,  that  there 
must  be  some  mistake  as  to  the  superior  cheapness 
of  the  Catholic  schools,  in  fact,  while  I  admit  that 
in  appearance  they  are  so.  Are  you  sure  that  they 
are  cheaper  in  the  eud  F" 

"  I  have  seen  and  compared  the  circulars  put  forth 
by  both  sides;  and  certainly  so  far  as  these,  in  their 
respective  statements  of  terms,  &c.,  afford  proper 
data  upon  which  to  form  an  opinion,  the  Catholic 
schools  seem  to  have  the  decided  advantage :  but  I 
am  aware  that,  after  all,  it  is  exceedingly  difBlcult 
to  arrive  at  the  truth  of  the  matter  in  this  way.  The 
only  sure  method  of  determining  the  question,  is  to 
compare  the  bill  as  made  out  and  paid  at  the  close 
of  the  sessions." 

**  Yes— and  I  know  that  many  parents  have  been 
greatly  disappointed  when  they  called  for  their  billS|. 
and  found  them  so  much  higher  than  they  had  ez« 
pected,  by  reason  of  extra  charges,  as  more  than  to 
equal  the  difference  in  the  apparent  cost  of  educa- 
tiou  at  these  Catholic  schools,  as  set  forth  in  these 
circulars.  And  then,  there  ia  such  a  thing,  you 
know,  as  finding  a  cheap  article  of  little  real  value 
after  you  have  bought  it,  when  a  small  addition  to 
the  outlay  at  the  time  of  purchase  would  have  bought 
one  infinitely  superior,  and  of  permanent  worth. 

"Well,  my  dear,  it  grows  late:  suppose  we  de- 
fer the  further  consideration  of  this  matter  for  a 
few  days,  until  I  shall  return  from  New  York, 
where  I  must  go,  next  week,  for  goods." 

So  saying,  the  subject  was  dropped  for  the  pres« 
ent ;  and,  Mary  having  returned  from  the  party,  af« 
ter  a  lively  conversation  upon  the  incidents  of  the 
evening  that  she  had  spent  at  their  neighbour'sk 
^be  family  retired  for  the  night.  - 


64 


SCTSTEBISS  OF  A  00K7BNT* 


CHAPTER  Xni. 

Mr.  Iforeton  vislta  New  York— His  conTorsation  with  Mr. 
YanduRen— Its  effect  upon  Mr.  Moreton—Mr.  Yaiidu»> 
c&'b  letter  to  the  Mother  Superipr. 

Dtjbino  the  following  week,  Mr.  Moreton  wentto 
New  Tork,  to  purchase  (roods ;  and,  while  sitting 
in  tiie  counting-room  of  Messrs.  Vandusen  and  Co., 
whom  he  dealt  with  largely,  waiting  for  his  bills  to 
be  made  out,  the  senior  partner  remarked  to  him^ 

^  By  the  way,  Mr.  Moreton,  you  have  a  family, 
liaTeyou  not  P 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply—"  a  wife  and  five  child- 
ren; three  of  whom  are  daughters." 

"  Where  are  you  educating  them  ?"  asked  the  rner- 
dhant. 

"  The  oldest  has  finished  her  education,"  returned 
Mr.  Moreton — **  but  the  next  oldest  ought  to  be  sent 
to  a  boarding-school  somewhere,  and  I  must  confess 
I  am  greatly  at  a  loss  where  to  place  her.  I  would 
like  to  send  her  to  the  Catholic  school  at  Bethle- 
hem, because  it  is  so  much  cheaper  than  our  Pro- 
testant schools  ;  but  Mrs.  Moreton  is  so  opposed  to 
trusting  her  daughter  in  the  hands  of  the  Catholics, 
that  I  do  not  like  to  say  positively  she  shall  go 
there." 

^It  is  very  natural,  indeed,  that  the  women 
ahould  feel  thus  opposed  to  these  Catholic  schools. 
My  wife,  for  instance,  was  violently  opposed  to 
them ;  but  they  are,  after,  all,  the  best  schools,  my 
dear  sir,  depend  upon  it.  Our  oldest  daughter  has 
been  for  two  years  at  the  convent  school,  some  fifty 
milea  from  this  city ;  notwithstanding  the  opposi- 
tion of  her  mother,  who  reluctantly  yielded  to  my 
wishes  in  the  matter;  and  I  assure  jou  that  she  is 
Qiakiofp  most  astonishing  pro^ss  \a  hej  sti^diefi 


UT8TEBZSS  OV  A  OONTBNV* 


65 


nd  five  child- 
skedthemer* 


Mrs.  Vandnsen,  findiDg  this  to  be  the  case,  has  be- 
oome  quite  reconciled,  and  now  sees  the  folly  of  her 
former  dislike  to  these  institutions." 

**  But  you  have  a  very  excellent  boarding  school 
in  your  own  city,  I  am  told,  conducted  by  a  Presby« 
tenan  minister ;  I  should  have  thought  that  you 
would  have  patronized  that  school,  as  you  belong  to 
that  denomination/'  remarked  Mr.  Moreton,  in  an 
interrogative  tone. 

**  So  I  do  helong  to  that  denomination,  my  dear 
mr,  but  I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  were  under  any  obliga- 
tion, for  that  reason,  to  pay  fifty  per  cent,  more  for 
the  education  of  my  daughter  at  a  Presbyterian 
school,  than  I  would  have  to  pay  at  one  belonging 
to  the  Catholics.  These  Protestant  schools  are  too 
high  for  me,  Mr.  Moreton ;  I  cannot  stand  their  an« 
couscionable  prices." 

**That  is  just  what  I  told  Mrs.  Moreton ;" — was 
the  reply,  in  a  tone  that  evinced  the  gratification  of 
the  speaker  at  finding  that  he  was  not  mistaken  in 
his  views,  as  expressed  to  his  wife ;  for  he  was  ex- 
ceedingly tenacious  of  his  opinions — "  but  she  was 
under  the  impression  that  the  extras  which  are 
charged  in  the  bills,  made  the  Catholic  schools  the 
most  expensive,  after  all." 

**  It  is  a  mistake,  my  dear  sir,  depend  upon  it,"— 
said  the  merchant— "at  least  such  has  not  been  my 
experience ;  and  the  *  truth  of  the  pudding* — you 
know  the  rest.  I  surely  ought  to  know  all  about  it, 
after  two  years*  experience." 

Mr.  Moreton  felt  perfectly  satisfied  upon  the 
point  of  expense,  but  asked  Mr.  Vandusen  to  tell 
him,  candidly,  what  he  thought  about  the  efforts  of 
the  priests  and  nuns  to  proselyte  Protestant  child- 
ren to  the  Romish  faith;  and  whether  he  had  any 
reason  to  believe  that  they  had  tampered  with  the 
wligious  faith  of  his  daughter. 

"It  is  all  humbug,  sir;"- replied  the  latter,  with 
Borne  w^pith  of  pawner,—"  the  result  of  se^ti^an 


inSIBBZBS  OV  JL  OOM  VEiiV* 


'111 

k 


bigotry.  I  am  astonithed,  as  a  praotioal  man,  that 
■eniible  people  should  have  raised  such  a  hue  and 
cry  about  the  proselyting  disposition  of  the  Catho- 
lics. I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  belieye  a  word  of  it.** 

Mr.  Moreton  thauked  the  merchant  for  his  iofor- 
mation,  and  expressed  his  determination  to  send  his 
daughter,  the  next  spring,  to  the  Catholic  school  at 
Bethlehem. 

«*But,"  replied  Mr.  Vandnsen, "  is  not  that  too 
near  home,  sir  P  My  advice  to  you  would  be,  not  to 
send  your  daughter  where  she  would  be  anxious  to 
oome  home  every  week,  because  it  was  so  short  a 
distance  to  travel,  and  where  she  would  be  dissatis* 
fied  if  she  did  not  get  to  visit  her  friends  frequent- 
ly ;  but  to  place  her  at  school  at  such  a  distance  as 
to  make  it  inconvenient  for  her  to  go  homo  oftener 
than  once  in  six  months,  since  her  mind  would  he 
undisturbed  by  the  proximity  of  her  relations,  and 
her  progress  in  her  studies  would  consequently  he 
the  greater ;"  and  assured  Mr.  Moreton  that  he  con- 
sidered the  school  to  which  he  sent  his  own  daughter, 
the  verjT  best  in  all  the  country. 

Convinced  by  his  arguments,  Mr.  Moreton  thank- 
ed the  merchant  again,  and,  having  settled  his  hills, 
bade  him  farewell,  and  returned  to  the  hotel  where 
he  was  stopping. 

No  sooner  had  he  left  the  counting-room,  than 
Mr.  Yaudusen,  with  great  glee  expressed  in  bis 
countenance,  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and  wrote  the 
following  letter,  which  he  despatched  to  the  post 
office. 

"  New  York,  December  6, 1810. 

'*  To  the  Mother  Superior  of  the  Convent  of  the 
Annunciation. 
"DkabMat>am, 

'*  I  have  just  had  a  long  conversation  with  one  of 
my  customers,  a  Mr.  Charles  Moreton,  of  Ponitsyl^ 
▼aula.  He  is  a  wealthy  merchant,  having,  two 
4aughtei:s  to  be  ^ucated;  one  of  whem  he  will  oo 


innsf&BXES  oy  a  oojn  vent* 


67 


donbt  send  to  yon  next  spring ;  and  the  other,  in  due 
time,  if  he  should  be  pleaeed.  I  found  his  head  fuU 
of  the  usual  notions  about  extras^  and  praaelyting, 
and  all  that,  but  succeeded  in  sweeping  the  cobwebs 
from  his  brain.  I  thiuk  }rou  may  oertainl v  calculate 
upon  his  bringing  you  his  daughter  in  the  spring. 
When  she  arrives,  you  will  credit  my  account  with 
twenty  dollars,  according  to  our  contract.  I  hope 
my  daughter's  health  is  good,  and  that  she  procuresses 

well  in  her  studies.    The  affair  of  the comet 

on  swimmingly.    I  shall,  without  doubt,  get  that 
money  secured  to  the  order. 
"  With  tide  highest  consideration,  I  remain 

"  Your  unworthy  servant. 


CHAFTEBXIV. 

Mr.  Moreton's  sanguine  partiality  to  Oatholio  schoole— 
Mrs.  Moreton*8  fears  auv.^  douhts— Julia  sent  as  a  board- 
er to  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation — Mr.  and  Mrs* 
Moreton  attend  the  first  examination^Engaging  man* 
ners  of  the  Mother  Superior— Extras— The  partots  re- 
ceive alarming  inteUigence— Distress  and  anxiety — Mr* 
Moreton  hastens  to  snatch  his  child  from  her  impend- 
ing doom— Arrives  at  the  CoTivent,  and  demands  to  see 
his  daughter— Falsehood  and  treachery  of  the  Mother 
Superior— Julia  rushes  into  her  father'a  arms,  and  is 
borne  by  him  firom  the  hated  Convent. 

When  Mr.  Moreton  returned  home,  he  related  to 
his  wife  the  conversation  which  had  taken  place  be- 
tween himself  and  Mr.  Vaudusen;  laying  great 
stress  upon  the  fact  that  the  latter  was  a  member  of 
the  Presbyterian  Church,— than  which  none  had  a 
more  inveterate  hostility  towards  the  Catholics,  or 
had  done  more  to  expose  the  errors  of  their  doctrines, 
or  the  enormity  of  their  practices ;  and,  as  he  said, 
|t  spoke  Tolinnes  in  refutation  of  the  slanders  whioli 


68 


1ITBTEBXB8  OV  ▲  OOWESTt, 


had  been  beaped  upon  the  Catholics,  that  a  Presby. 
terian  should  bear  such  testimony  as  he  had  borne 
to  the  excellence  of  the  oonyeut  school,  the  cheap. 
ness  of  its  terms,  and  the  ahseuce  of  intentiou  or  ef- 
fort to  proselyte  the  children  of  Protestant  parents. 
Withal,  the  fact  that  he  was  sending  his  own  dau^hi 
ter  to  this  same  school,  and  his  highly  respectable 
standing  as  a  merchant,  forbade  the  idea  of  any  in. 
sincerity,  or  want  of  sufficient  intelligence  upon  the 
•abject. 

Still  Mrs.  Moreton  was  not  convinced,  in  spite  of 
all  this  array  of  imposing  testimony ;  and,  while  her 
husband  gently  insinuated  that  she  was  very  obsti. 
Date  in  her  prejudices,  she  could  not  wholly  rid  her 
mind  of  apprehension,  or  be  brought  to  believe  that 
there  was  no  real  danger  incurred  in  sending  Julia 
to  a  Catholic  school. 

But  finding  that  it  was  useless  to  argue  the  mat* 
ter  any  further  with  Mr.  Moreton,  she  reluctantly 
yielded  the  point ;  hoping  that  she  might  be  able  to 
lortify  Julia  s  mind  so  strongly  against  the  wiles  and 
sophistry  of  a  crafty  priesthood,  so  that  she  might 
safely  pass  the  fiery  ordeal  which  she  fully  believed 
was  about  to  be  placed  before  her  child ;  and  wb>D, 
in  the  following  spring,  the  time  fixed  for  the  de- 
parture of  Julia  with  her  father  for  the  conveut 
school,  arrived ;  and  the  vehicle  which  bore  them 
away,  receded  from  her  view,  she  returned  from  the 
street  door  into  her  sitting  room,  with  a  heavy  heart, 
feeling  as  though  a  dark  cloud,  surcharged  with  evil, 
had  gathered  over  herself  and  family. 

On  his  return,  after  having  placed  Julia  at  school, 
bis  wife  had  a  thousand  anxious  questions  to  be  au- 
Bwered ;  all  of  which  he  answered  so  readily,  and 
with  such  apparent  satisfaction  to  himself,  that  her 
fears  were  ouieted,  and  hope  gained  the  ascendant. 
Be  informed  her  that,  on  their  arrival  at  the  con* 
vent,  after  a  fatiguing  but  rather  pleasant  journey 
qI  f oiir  days,  the  Mother  Superior,  whom  he  xepi^ 


anrsTBsns  of  ▲  oonvsi^. 


69 


seiited  as  a  lovely  Frenoh  womaD,  in  the  prime  of 
life  and  of  most  elegant  manners,  received  bim  with 
the  qreatest  kindness,  and  throwing  hor  arms 
around  Julia,  kissed  bor  affectionately,  welcoming 
her  to  the  institution,  and  promising  to  he  a  mother 
to  her,  while  she  continued  there  ;  that  Julia  had 
found  one  or  two  old  acquaintances  among  the  pu- 
pils, and  seemed  to  he  satisfied ;  and  that,  on  his 
expressing  a  wish  that  his  daughter's  principles 
should  in  no  way  he  interfered  with,  she  assured 
bim,  in  the  most  frank  and  positive  manner,  that  he 
need  not  entertain  any  fears  on  that  subject,  as  they 
had  no  desire  to  make  proselytes  of  the  children  of 
Protestant  parents. 

*'  lu  short/'  added  Mr.  Moreton,  "  she  is  one  of  the 
most  agreeable  ladies  I  have  ever  met  with ;  and  I 
feel  well  assured  that  our  daughter  is  placed  in  good 
hands." 

Five  months  passed  away,  and  the  summer  vaoa- 
tion  came  on.  Mr.  Moreton  and  his  lady  had  at* 
tended  the  examination ;  and,  although  Julia's  pro* 
gress  did  not  meet  their  expectation,  yet  they  sup- 
posed that  this  might  be  attributed  to  the  novelty  of 
the  position  in  which  she  had  been  placed—away 
from  home,  amon^  strangers,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life— and  they  mdulged  the  hope  that  she  would 
do  better,  the  next  session. 

On  calling  for  his  bill,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that 
it  was  larger  than  he  had  anticipated.  There  was 
80  much  charged  as  an  extra  item  for  this,  and  so 
much  for  that ;  so  much  for  fuel,  and  for  room  rent, 
aud  for  stationery,  and  for  medical  attendance,  al- 
though she  had  not  been  sick  an  hour  during  the 
entire  time  I  and  so  much  for  store  goods,  &c. ; 
amounting  m  all  to  some  thirty  or  forty  ner  cent, 
more  than  he  had  expected.  Unwilling,  no wever, 
to  dispute  the  account ;  fascinated  as  he  was  by  the 
elegant  manners  of  the  Mother  Superior,  and  grati- 
BM  by  the  deference  and  respect  which  were  shown 


i\ 


\ 


70 


BnrCTBKIES  OF  A  OOWBXn. 


to  himself  and  wife,  by  all  the  ininates  of  the  family 
he  paid  the  bill,  without  a  word  of  complaint ;  re- 
BolviDg  in  his  own  mind,  that  for  the  future,  he 
would  take  care  to  avoid  all  extras,  by  furnishing 
every  thinjc^  from  home,  as  far  as  practicable,  and 
by  prohibiting  the  opening  of  store  accounts  for  his 
daughter's  use.  Besides,  he  prided  himself,  as  a  bu- 
siness man,  upon  his  tact  and  foresight ;  and,  Mrs. 
Moreton  being  present,  when  the  settlement  was 
made  with  the  accountant,  though  she  was  engaged 
in  conversation  with  the  Mother  Superior,  he  was 
very  unwilling  that  she  should  know  that  he  had 
been  outwitted ;  especially  when  so  much  had  been 
said  on  this  very  point,  prior  to  placing  Julia  in  the 
institution. 

Julia  appeared  pleased  to  revisit  her  home ;  bnt 
her  mother  was  pained  to  find  that  she  did  not  mani- 
fest as  great  an  attachment  to  it,  as  before  leaviog 
it  for  school ;  and  that  she  more  than  once  wished 
for  the  time  to  come  when  her  father  was  to  take 
her  back.  She  found,  too,  that  her  daughter  loved 
to  talk  of  the  Mother  Superior,  and  of  sister  this, 
and  sister  that,  frequently  extolling  their  great  kind- 
ness to  her,  their  piety,  and  their  happy  condition; 
seeming  to  think  that  the  life  of  a  nun  was  the  very 
beau-ideal,  with  her,  of  human  happiness  on  earth. 
When  Mrs.  Moreton  would  attempt  to  combat  this 
notion,  she  found  Julia  disposed  to  be  wayward,  and 
to  resent  the  attempt  as  an  insult,  by  implication, 
offered  to  those  whom  she  so  highly  esteemed.  Know- 
ing her  impulsive  nature,  however,  and  how  eveiv 
novelty  that  pleased  her  was  wont  to  effect  her  mind, 
she  thought  this  a  mere  girlish  effervescence  of  mo- 
mentary excitement,  and  that  after  a  while,  when 
the  novelty  had  worn  off,  she  would  see  things  ins 
truer  light. 

At  loigth  oame  the  day  for  Julia's  return  to 
school ;  and  her  mother,  having  given  her  much  ex- 
cellent advloe^  and  made  her  promiae  to  wiite,eithfli 


„*• 


m'li 


anrsTBurEB  of  ▲  ooavbmt. 


71 


to  herself  or  to  her  father,  once  a  f  ortnifirht,  bade  her 
adieu.  Arriyedatthe  couTent,  Mr.  Moreton  and 
Julia  were  received  with  similar  demonstrations  of 
kindness  to  those  which  had  marked  their  first  re- 
ception, while  there  seemed  to  be  more  of  familiar 
cordiality  in  the  attentions  paid  to  them ;  and  the 
former,  having  given  the  necessary  instructions  as 
to  his  daughter's  expenses,  left  her ;  congratulating 
himself  that  he  had  effectually  guarded  against  heavy 
hills,  for  the  future. 

The  second  session  had  expired,  daring  which 
Julia's  letters  had  been  received  regiilarly,  in  keep- 
ing with  her  promise;  and,  there  being  no  vacation 
between  that  and  the  ensuing  session,  she  did  not 
come  home,  her  father's  business  engagements  pre- 
venting him  from  going  to  her;  but,  as  her  mother's 
anxiety  about  her  was  greatly  quired  by  the  regu- 
larity with  which  her  letters  arrived,  and  the  im- 
provement both  in  style  and  penmanship  which  they 
mdicated,  it  was  determined  that  she  should  remain 
for  the  third  term* 

But  after  Julia  had  been  thas  at  school,  fifteen 
months,  and  when  her  parents  were  congratulating 
themselves  upon  the  selection  which  they  had  made 
of  a  school  for  her— albeit  Mr.  Moreton  had  ascer- 
tained, bevond  all  question,  that  in  point  of  econo- 
my he  had  gained  nothing,  since  it  had  cost  him 
something  more,  at  this  professedly  cheap  school, 
for  the  education  of  his  daughter,  thus  far,  than  it 
would  have  cost  him  at  Protestant  schools,  which 
bad  been  denounced  as  being  so  unconscionably  ex- 
travagant in  their  charges;  a  letter  was  received 
from  Julia,  which  filled  their  minds  with  dismay  and 
deep  anxiety  for  the  future.  It  was  written  at 
great  length,  evidently  with  studied  care,  and  in  a 
style  so  wholly  different  from  her  former  letters,  or 
from  anything  that  might  have  been  reasonably  ez- 
P^^d  of  her,  as  to  oonvinoe  them  that  Bh«  bad  not 
d  1^"     ^m«lf,but  oopied  it  from  tiM  diotation 


72 


irrSTSBIBS  OF  ▲  OOFTEITT. 


After  thanking  her  parents,  in  very  measured 
terms,  for  their  care  and  affection  hitherto  mani. 
fested  towards  her,  and  particularly  for  having 

Jilaced  her  at  the  convent  school,  where  she  had  en- 
oyed  so  rare  advantage,  and  spent  the  happiest  pe- 
riod of  her  existence— she  proceeded  to  state  that, 
without  any  efforts  having  heen  made,  on  the  part 
of  her  teachers,  to  hias  her  mind,  or  to  change  her 
religious  faith,  she  had  become  convinced  that  the 
Catholic  was  the  only  true  faith  ;  that  all  beside  was 
heresy ;  and  that  she  felt  it  to  be  her  imperative  duty 
to  join  the  Catholic  church,  and,  at  the  pro])er  age, 
to  Decome  a  nun ;  but  that  the  respect— iha.t  was 
the  cold  word  which  she  addressed  to  her  kind  and 
affectionate  parents— the  respect  which  she  enter- 
tained for  t^t-m,  constrained  her  to  ask  their  con- 
sent, before  she  took  so  important  a  step— adding, 
that  she  hoped  they  would  not  withhold  this,  since, 
in  that  event,  she  must  obey  God  rather  than  man, 
and  should  proceed,  in  spite  of  their  refusal. 

None  but  those  who  live  only  for  their  children, 
ftnd  feel  that  these  constitute  the  end  and  object  of 
all  their  plans  and  purposes,  can  imagine  the  feel- 
ings which  rushed  tumultuously  into  the  bosoms  of 
the  father  and  mother,  as  they  perused  this  harrow- 
ing letter.  They  seemed  to  themselves  to  have  been 
sleeping,  in  fancied  security,  on  the  very  brink  of  a 
frightful  precipice,  and  to  have  suddenly  awakened 
to  find  it  crumbling  under  them,  and  ready  to  carry 
them  with  it,  in  its  headlong  plunge  into  the  yawn* 
ing  abyss  beneath.  The  mother  sat  in  speechless 
grief;  while  the  scalding  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 
The  father,  feeling  that  his  own  penuriousncsshad 
rendered  him  deaf  to  the  warnings  of  his  wife,  when 
her  fears  led  her,  in  the  outset,  to  deprecate  the  step 
that  had  wrought  this  mischief,  was  self-reproached 
and  self -condemned ;  yet,  recollecting  that  the  in- 
terposition of  his  authority  might  and  could  avert 
the  impending  evili  did  not  give  way  to  his  feelings, 


irnttfittlBS  of  A  00K7EK1P* 


?8 


but  stood  pale,  stern,  and  with  contracted  brow, 
tbinking  what  course  he  had  best  pursue.  For  somo 
minutes,  neither  uttered  a  word. 

It  was  noon— and  the  un tasted  meal  had  for  some 
time  stood  unnoticed  on  the  board :  no  member  of 
that  unusually  so  happy  family  felt  any  inclination 
to  partake  of  it.  There  they  sat,  as  if  death,  or 
worse  than  death,  had  snatched  away  one  beloved 
of  all.  At  length  the  mother,  with  a  strongs  effort, 
broke  the  painful  silence,  and  said,  in  the  tones  of 
one  nerved  by  urgent  resolution  to  a  decisive  step. 

^*  Mr.  Moreton,  we  must  go  to  Julia.  She  cannot 
resist  the  appeal  of  a  mother's  love.  We  will  save 
her  yet." 

"  We  will  start  at  once,"  was  the  prompt  reply  of 
the  determined  father ;  and,  giving  immediate  or- 
ders that  the  carriage  should  be  got  ready,  they 
were  soon  on  their  way  to  rescue  their  child  from 
the  imminent  ruin  which  threatened. 

Having  travell':<I  \b  rapidly  as  possible,  they  ar- 
rived at  the  con\  i  i  the  afternoon  of  the  ihirdi 
day  from  home ;  ani,  while  the  mother  remained  in 
the  carriage  at  the  outside  gate,  in  accordance  with 
the  plan  which  had  been  previously  adopted  for 
their  government,  Mr.  Moreton  hastened  up  the 
long  avenue,  heavily  shaded  with  large  forest  trees, 
through  which  it  wound  its  tortuous  way— fit  em- 
blem of  the  practices  of  those  who  dwelt  within  that 
dark  and  gloomy  pile  of  imprisonment  and  shame ; 
and,  kDockiuer  at  the  hall-door,  demanded  to  see  the 
Superior.  The  sister  porter  invited  him  into  the 
parlour,  where  presently  he  was  joined  by  the  lady 
VfhosQ  eleirant  maimers  had  so  fascinatea  his  judg- 
meut,  on  their  first  interview,  but  whom  he  was  now 
disposed  to  regard  as  the  most  treacherous  of  her 
sex ;  since  she  had  betrayed  the  sacred  trust  com* 
mitted  to  her  hands  by  confiding  parents,  for  he 
could  not  doubt  that  this  woman  was  at  the  bottom 
of  his  daughter's  defection. 
224  a 


mw. 


II 


u 


icirsntBzxs  Cf  ▲  oomvjekt. 


She  met  him  with  unusual  affability,  and  an  6p« 
pearance  of  the  utmost  gratification  at  seeing  him; 
and  was  proceeding  to  make  inquiry  as  to  the  health 
of  Mrs.  Moreton  and  the  family,  when  he  interrupt- 
ed her  by  sayin;;, — 

"  I  wish  to  see  my  daughter,  madam." 

With  a  most  winning  smile  upon  her  countenance, 
the  Superior  replied — 

<«  I  regret  very  much  that  you  cannot  now  see 
Julia,  sir;  she  has  been  somewhat  indisposed,  but 
has  fallen  asleep :  and  it  would  be  injurious  to  her 
to  awake  her/' 

Satisfied  that  this  was  a  mere  ruse,  on  the  part  of 
the  Superior,  to  gain  time,  or  to  accomplish  some 
other  purpose  of  her  own,  the  indignant  father, 
throwing  off  the  restraint  which,  until  this  moment, 
he  had  maintained  upon  himself,  cried,  in  tones  of 
great  excitement : 

«My  daughter,  Madam ;  I  want  my  daughter. 
Where  it  she?" 

'*  You  cannot  see  your  daughter,  sir,'*  replied  the 
Superior,  with  cool  self-possession,  still  retaining  a 
i>land  smile  upon  her  oouutenaQce.  **  She  is  ill  in 
bed,  and  cannot  be  seen." 

'*I  am  her  father,  and  must  see  her;'*— and,  as  be 
thus  spoke,  with  increased  ener^ry  of  manner,  he 
took  a  step  forward,  as  thou<;h  he  would  force  hifl 
way  to  the  apartment  of  bis  daughter. 

The  Superior,  however,  anticipating  his  purpose, 
instantly  rose,  and,  intercepting  him,  stood  full  in 
bis  way,  between  him  and  the  door.  Then,  drawing 
herself  up  to  her  full  heio^ht,  while  she  assumed  an 
air  of  offended  dii^nity, — a  slight  fluah  of  excitement 
playing  upon  her  really  beautiful  countenance,— 
answered  Quietly,  but  (irmly— 

^  I  rule  here,  sir ;  and  I  say  to  you  that  you  can- 
not see  your  daughter.  I  say  to  you,  further,  thai 
$h$ does  not  wish  to  see  you" 

«< Doef  not  wish  to  M§li«r  lather r   Whaldoai 


ttTSTEBI|»  OF  ▲  OONVBMT. 


75 


this  mean  ?*'— inquired  Mr.  Moreton,  his  whole 
manner  indicating  the  greatest  surprise .  and  agita- 
tion of  soul. 

**  Because  she  has  renounced  you,  together  with 
all  the  vain  ties  of  this  sinful  world,  and  claims  the 
protection  of  this  sanctuary ;"— haughtily  answer- 
ed the  Superior. 

"It  is  false!"— thundered  the  outracred  parent, 
who,  now  wrou<;ht  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  ex- 
citement, was  ahout  to  push  the  Superior  aside,  and 
would  doubtless  have  ommitted  some  act  of  vio- 
lence, but,  just  at  this  moment,  his  daughter,  who 
had  by  some  means  learned  the  arrival  of  her  fa- 
ther, or  heard  his  voice  in  altercation  with  the  Mo- 
ther Superior,  rushed  into  the  room,  her  dress 
greatly  disordered,  and,  passing  by  the  latter,  who 
&ied  in  vain  to  arrest  her,  threw  herself  into  his 
arms,  crying,  in  accents  which  thrilled  to  his  in- 
most soul—*' Father,  save  me  !    0,  save  me!" 

Clasping  her  to  his  bosom  with  an  energy  that 
mocked  all  interference,  for  he  was  a  powerful 
man,  the  father  cast  a  look  of  proud  defiance  up- 
on the  no  longer  mild  and  placid  Superior— who, 
with  the  countenance  of  a  demon,  and  the  eye  oi 
an  infuriated  tit>re8s,  that  had  just  had  snatched 
from  her  jaws  the  prey  which  she  was  about  to 
share  with  the  whelps,  advanced  as  though  she 
would  tear  Julia  from  the  grasp  of  her  natural  pro- 
tector;—and,  pushing  her  outstretched  arm  aside, 
hastened  with  the  almost  fainting  child  to  her  mo- 
ther ;  who,  meanwhile,  too  remote  to  see  or  to  hear 
what  had  passed,  waited  in  great  anxiety  the  return 
of  her  husband  to  the  carriage. 

The  reader  can  imagine  how  pleasant  was  the  sur- 
prise to  Mrs.  Moreton,  and  what  must  have  been 
the  revulsion  of  her  feelings,  when  Julia,  throwing 
Herself  upon  her  bosom,  and  putting  her  arm* 
around  her  neck,  cried,  in  a  Toice  almost  ohoked 
with  emotion-"  Forgive  me,  my  dearest  mother: 
A  will  never  leave  you  again." 


78 


lilBTJBUXBS  OV  ▲  00inrBNT« 


'  Driyin((  rapidly  awaj,  Mr.  Moreton  went  to  th« 
neighbouring  village,  where  he  handed  to  a  friend 
8  Bum  of  money  necessary  to  pay  his  daughter's 
bill  at  the  oonyent,  together  with  an  order  for  the 
delivery  of  her  clothing ;  and  then  turned  his  horses' 
heads  towards  home. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Julia's  narrative— Specious  and  artful  conduct  of  the  Slo- 
wer Superior— How  the  letter  was  wrote. 

Bttbino  the  journey  homeward,  and  after  they  had 
reached  that  dear  spot, — over  which  had  so  recently 
gathered  thick  gloom  and  deep  sorrow,  but  where 
sunshine  and  gladness  now  reigned,— Julia  related 
to  her  parents  what  had  transpired  during  the  time 
that  she  had  spent  at  the  convent  school,  the  most 
prominent  of  which  is  here  summarily  laid  before 
the  reader. 

It  seems  that,  on  her  arrival  at  the  convent,  when 
first  brought  there  by  her  father,  Julia  became  a 
great  favourite,  both  with  the  nuns  and  with  the 
boarders.  Her  vivacity,  her  talent  at  repartee,  her 
general  amiability,  and  her  studiousness,  gained  the 
respect,  and  won  the  affection,  of  all,  from  the 
Mother  Superior  down  to  the  lowest  menial.  The 
former  soon  fixed  upon  her  as  a  suitable  subject  of 
which  to  make  a  useful  and  valuable  acquisition  to 
the  order;  and,  with  the  quick  perception  of  a 
strong  mind  trained  under  Jesuit  influence,  readily 
discovered  the  prominent  traits  in  her  disposition, 
and  devised  the  plan  by  means  of  which  she  mi^ht 
best  accomplish  her  design ;  yet,  with  all  the  ounuing 
and  wariness  of  her  class,  she  so  completely  dis« 
gttised  her  real  purpose,  that  JuUa  only  became 
aware  of  it  at  the  very  last  moment,  as  it  were,  and 
then  only  through  the  instromentality  of  one  who 


XTSTBBISS  OF  ▲  CQN7BNT. 


77 


had  preTioady  f  alien  a  yiotim  to  the  same  artifioei 
and  who  perished  in  the  same  coiU. 

During  the  first  session  of  the  school,  the  Mother 
Superior  did  nothing  more  than  gain  the  a£Fection8 
of  the  young  girl ;  well  knowing  that  this  must  be  a 
first  step,  and  that  with  these  her  confidence  would 
be  acquired  as  a  necessary  consequence.  In  order 
to  do  this,  she  treated  her  with  distinguished  kind- 
ness; allowing  her  mauy  privileges  which  were  not 
granted  to  others ;  and  encouraging  her  frequent 
visits,  in  the  eveuines,  to  her  private  parlour — save 
when  the  Father  General  came  to  see  her— where 
she  was  sure  to  find  something  nice  to  eat,  and  some« 
thing  that  would  interest  her  mind ;  her  taste  in 
both  respects  being  carefully  consulted.  She  placed 
in  the  hands  of  Julia,  rare  and  beautiful  pictures, 
representing  the  miracles  and  prominent  incidents 
in  the  lives  of  the  Saints  of  the  Church  and  would 
have  her  to  read  aloud  interesting  passages  from 
their  history.  She  would  also  speak  to  Julia  of 
these ;  while  the  silvery  notes  of  her  Toioe  would 
fall  like  sweet  music  upon  the  ear,  and  the  ^rl's  en- 
thusiastic soul  would  be  enrapt  by  the  ma^o  of  her 
discriptive  and  narrative  powers.  All  day  longi 
Julia's  studies  were  enlivened,  and  her  tasks  made 
lighter,  by  the  anticipation  of  spending  an  evening 
in  the  Superior's  private  apartment,  where  every 
thing  was  so  snug  and  so  comfortable. 

But  all  this  time  not  a  word  was  said  about  the 
peculiar  dogmas  of  the  Bomish  religion,  save  in  the 
most  careless,  and,  as  it  were,  accidental  manner; 
not  a  disrespectful  allusion  to  the  Protestant  faith 
was  pronounced  at  all,  it  was  with  the  utmost  appa* 
rent  kindness  of  feeling,  and  with  the  greatest  ibow 
of  consideration  for  those  who  bore  it.  Neither  was 
Julia  required  to  comply,  at  any  time,  with  Bomish 
forms  and  usages,  further  than  was  generally  ex- 
pected from  all  Protestant  pupils ;  but,  U  a  peouliav- 
ly  interesting  or  imponng  service  was  to  be  perform- 


h  v 


78 


inBTBBIES  07  A.  OOHVENT. 


ed,  her  enriotity  io  witness  it  was  aroused,  before* 
hand,  by  slow  and  gradual  approaches  which  whollj 
concealed  from  view  the  real  object;  and,  after  it 
was  over,  it  would  be  introduced  in  the  most  natural 
manner  imaginable,  as  a  toi)io  of  conyersatiou,  and 
so  as  to  lead  an  ardent  and  imaginative  mind  to  iu« 
quire  into  its  purport. 

Thus,  without  appearing  to  seek  it,  frequent  op. 
portunity  was  afforded  for  the  explanation  of  Catho. 
uo  dogmas,  and  their  implantation  in  Julia's teudei 
mind,  before  she  was  aware  of  it.  No  wonder,  then, 
if  with  such  a  nature  as  hers,  impulsive,  coiifi(hn^, 
and  enthusiastic ;  fond  of  novelty,  and  delighting  in 
excitement ;  with  so  much  around  her  to  furnish  ali- 
ment for  her  mental  appetite ;  and,  added  to  all 
this,  the  presence  of  a  master  spirit— wise,  strong- 
willed,  unscrupulous— which  knew  well  how  to  con- 
trol and  adjust  this  complicated  machinery  for  the 
production  of  the  largest  results  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  its  own  occult  purposes ;  Julia  should  have 
been  so  fully,  yet  unconsciously,  trained  by  the  Mo- 
ther Superior,  in  the  short  space  of  five  months,  as 
to  be  made  to  think  and  feel  lust  as  the  latter  mi;'ht 
will  that  she  should ;  and  to  be  ripe  for  the  develop- 
ment of  her  plans,  on  Julia's  return  from  homej  at 
the  close  of  the  summer  vacation.  No  wonder,  too, 
that,  under  the  circumstances  of  false  colouring 
which  had  been  thrown  around  her,  she  should  re- 
gard the  life  of  a  nun  as  being  the  fullest  embodi- 
ment  of  human  felicity ;  as  all  sunshine,  without  an 
obscuring  cloud,  or  fitting  rack,  to  dim  for  an  in* 
stance  its  brightness. 

On  her  return  from  home,  however,  after  the  va- 
cation, the  rich  politician,  into  whose  hands  the  on- 
wary  girl  had  so  unfortunately  fallen,  began  to  nar- 
row the  circle  of  her  coils,  ana  to  bring  them  to  bear 
more  directl v  upon  the  focal  point  of  her  schemings. 
The  first  object  to  be  accomplished  was  to  destroy 
her  confidence  in  her  own  religious  faith;  andal* 


XTSTSBXBB  OF  ▲  OOITTSNT. 


79 


though  this  had,  to  a  certain  extent,  been  ooTertly 
but  successfully,  done,  yet  the  completion  of  the 
work  was  to  be  cautiously  effected,  or  great  mischief 
to  the  plans  of  the  Superior  might  be  the  result. 
The  social  eyenings  spent  in  her  room  afforded  8uit« 
ableopportuuities  for  this ;  and,  as  it  was  more  than 
likely  that  Julia  would  not  return  home  before  the 
expiration  of  ten  months,  time  was  not  wanting. 
Besides,  bow  really  easy  the  task  with  a  young  girl 
who  had  been  so  imperfectly  instructed,  as  she  ne« 
cessarily  was,  in  the  principles  of  her  faith.  Before 
the  third  month  had  elapsed,  the  end  was  gained : — 
Protestantism  was  rejected,  and  it  became  a  light  af- 
fair to  substitute  Romanism  in  its  stead.  On  the  day 
before  the  session  closed,  Julia  was  baptized  in  the 
chapel,  and  became  a  member  of  the  Boman  Catho- 
lic church. 

All  this  time,  there  had  been  no  compulsion.  Led 
in  silken  fetters,  Jilia  never  for  a  moment  supposed 
that  she  was  captive  to  the  iron  will  of  another,  but 
seemed  to  herself  t>  have  taken  step  by  step,  wholly 
of  her  own  accord  ;  mtil  not  only  was  effected  what 
we  have  seen,  but  she  had  been  made  to  beliove  that 
it  was  right  and  proper  to  conceal  from  her  parents 
what  had  occurred.  Nay,  more,  that  it  was  right 
and  proper  to  deceive  them  as  to  the  true  state  of 
her  feelings,  and  make  them  conclude,  from  the  ten- 
or of  her  letters,  that  she  was  still  a  firm  adherent  to 
the  faith  of  her  ancestors ;  "  the  end — your  devotioa 
to  the  service  of  God  and  the  Virgin,"  said  the  Mo- 
ther Superior— **  will  sanctify  the  means  ;" — the  de- 
ception of  her  best  friends,  her  parents. 

Now  that  she  was  a  member  of  the  Catholic 
church,  she  was  more  than  ever  in  the  power  of  the 
Superior,  and  subject  to  her  control ;  while  the  lat« 
ter,  in  her  turn,  found  increased  means  of  ezeroisiiig 
that  power,  in  the  imposing  ceremonies,  themystio 
symbols,  the  thrilling  music,  the  demoralising  eon* 
fessional,  and  the  constant  appeals  made  to  the  in* 


80 


KTSTBBZB8  OF  A  OOVTSMT* 


nata  lapertHtion  of  poor  fallen  human  nature;  in* 
deed,  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  ritual  of  that  church, 
in  these,  Julia  found  excitement ;  in  these,  there* 
fore,  she  took  an  enthusiastic  delif^ht ;  and  when- 
ever, on  the  reception  of  a  letter  from  home,  or  from 
any  other  cause,  old  associations  and  old  attach- 
ments would  linsrer  about  the  hearthstone  of  me- 
mory, and  rekindle  its  embers,  the  Mother  Superior, 
from  whom  she  concealed  nothinsr,  would  promptly 
but  adroitly   smother  them,  until  she  became  com* 

Eletely  weaned  from  all  that  were  once  most  dear  to 
er ;  and  her  ^reat  anxiety  now  was  not  to  be  re« 
called  home,  from  the  scenes  and  pursuits  in  which 
her  happiness  seemed  to  be  so  completely  involved. 

She  was  now  in  a  fit  state  of  mind  to  be  influenc- 
ed to  take  the  remaining  steps,  and  to  be  made  a 
permanent  member  of  the  family  in  which  she  re- 
tided  ;  in  other  words,  to  become  a  nun.  As  this 
was  a  step,  howeyer,  in  which  she  could  be  forcibly 
oontrolled  by  her  parents,  at  least  until  she  was  of 
age ;  and  as  the  Mother  Superior  had  now  gained  all 
that  was  immediately  necessary  to  the  ultimate  ao- 
oomplishment  of  her  ^eat  design ;  she  determined 
to  await  the  close  of  the  ensuing  session,  which  was 
to  be  her  last,  before  anything  further  should  he 
done ;  and,  meanwhile,  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  con- 
firm and  establish  Julia  in  her  new  faith. 

Thus  things  progressed  until  within  a  few  weeks 
of  the  termination  of  the  third  session,  when  the 
Mother  Superior,  having  prepared  a  letter  which  she 
ihought  would  answer  the  purpose,  placed  it  in  Ju- 
lia's hands  to  be  copied.  After  numerous  alterations 
and  corrections,  which  suggested  themselves  from 
time  to  time,  had  been  made,  this  letter  was  finally 
cent  to  Mr.  Moreton,  but,  by  some  unaccountable  de- 
tention in  the  post  office,  did  not  reach  him  as  soon 
as  it  should  have  done,  bj  at  least  ten  days.  This 
delar  was  the  salTation  of  Juliai  as  will  be  shown  in 
the  following  chapter. 


SETSTBBXB0  OV  ▲  CX)infBNTe 


81 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Sister  Theresa,  her  Buflferingf  and  death— Her  dying  warn- 
ing to  Julia— Its  (ffect  upon  Julia— The  Mother  Supe- 
rior's rage  in  the  chamber  of  death  -The  Father  Oene« 
ral'M  base  r(  heme  to  enrich  the  order— The  Mother  Su- 
perior in  a  dilemma. 

It  appears,  from  Julia's  recital  to  her  parents,  that, 
while  rambling  over  the  convent  building,  one  day, 
she  found,  lying  upon  a  pallet  of  straw,  with  ragged 
and  insufficient  bed-clothing  spread  over  ber,  in  a 
small  room,  in  a  remote  and  rather  unoccupied  por- 
tion of  the  vast  pile,  a  poor  nun,  whose  countenance 
bore  the  traces  of  great  beauty,  but  who  was  fear- 
fully wasted  by  disease  and  suffering.  Discovering, 
on  conversing  with  her,  that  she  was  greatly  neg- 
lected by  the  members  of  the  housebold,  Julia  re- 
quested, and  obtained,  permission,  from  the  Mother 
Superior,  to  visit  this  nun,  which  was  the  more 
readily  granted  because  the  latter  really  knew  no- 
thing about  the  true  condition  of  one  who  had  lonff 
been  lost  sight  of  by  her  as  an  helpless  and  ruined 
victim,  save  as  her  name  was  from  time  to  time  re- 
ported upon  the  sick  list.  From  that  day  on  until 
the  poor  nun  died,  Julia  spent  an  hour  or  more  by 
her  bed-side,  every  day,  and  occasionally  sat  up  with 
her,  a  portion  of  the  night.  Her  kindness  to  Sister 
Theresa— for  that  was  the  name  of  this  poor  nun, 
whom  the  reader  will  recollect  as  having  had  an  in- 
terview with  the  Father  General,  in  the  convent 
garden  at  midnight— soon  won  her  grateful  affec- 
tion ;  and,  as  her  light  footsteps  would  be  heard 
daily  ascending  the  stairs  on  her  errand  of  mercy, 
Theresa's  countenance  would  beam  with  gladness. 
Sometimes,  when  Julia  would  be  seated  by  her  bed- 
Bide,  she  would  look  up  in  her  face,  with  a  smile  of 
heartfelt  gratitude,  and  would  press  her  hand  ear* 


Ml 

1  *i« 


82 


2CT8TBBXIi  OF  ▲  00  WSRT* 


nettlr,  while  the  big:  team  would  itart  to  her  eye,  and 
triokle  down  her  cheek,  as  she  whispered  a  prayer  to 
the  Virgin,  for  blessings  on  her  benefactress. 

On  the  morning  of  the  Tery  day  npon  which  Mr. 
Horeton  reached  the  convent,  as  related  in  the  chap« 
ter  preceding  the  last,  Julia  paid  her  usual  yisit  to 
her  patient,  as  she  called  her,  and  was  alarmed  to 
find  her  a  great  deal  worse  than  she  had  beeu  previ- 
ously.  Taking  her  by  the  hand.  Sister  Theresa  said 
to  her,  in  tones  of  deep  emotion,—'*  Dear  Julia,  I  am 
dying:  I  feel  that  I  cannot  live  much  louder;  and 
because  I  love  you  for  your  love  to  me,  and  for  your 
charity  to  a  poor  deserted  nun,  I  wish  to  give  you  a 
solemn  charge,  as  from  the  lips  of  a  dying  woman; 
which  it  would  embitter  my  last  moments  to  with- 
hold from  you,  while  it  is  the  best  returu  I  can  make 
for  your  exceeding  kindness  to  me.  Never  cousent 
to  become  a  nun." 

Julia  started  back,  as  though  she  had  been  stanfi; 
by  an  adder,  and  seemed  to  doubt  if  she  had  heard 
aright,  or  as  if  she  thought  that  the  poor  nun  might 
be  out  of  her  head. 

Sister  Theresa  read  her  thoughts ;  and,  ajvain  tak« 
ing  her  hand,  and  pressing  it  earnestly  in  her  own, 
repeated  the  charge  in  a  ntill  more  solemn  and  im- 
pressive manner  than  before.  Julia  would  have 
spoken,  but  the  nun  said  to  her — *'  Listen  to  me.  I 
had  thought  that  my  melancholy  story  would  have 
died  with  me ;  and,  indeed,  I  know  not  that  I  shall 
have  strength  to  relate  it  to  you ;  yet,  deeply  indebt- 
ed to  you  as  I  am,  I  cannot  better  employ  my  re- 
maining strength  than  in  communicating  that  which 
may  save  you  from  a  fate  like  miue.  In  the  narra- 
tive which  I  am  about  to  give  you,  you  will  find 
abundant  cause  for  the  charge  which  has  filled  your 
mind  with  astonishment." 

**  I  am/'  continued  Theresa,  **  the  only  child  of 
wealthy  parents  in  the  south,  who  placed  me  here, 
■ome  years  iinoe,  as  a  pupil  in  the  oonvent  school 


ICTVrBBXBfl  OV  ▲  OOMYJUIT* 

For  two  yean  after  my  arrival.  th«  Mother  Snperiof 
lavished  upon  me  acts  of  kinaiiese  simiiar  to  those 
which  Bhe,  I  know,  hae  exhibited  towards  yourself 
aud  others,  and  with  the  same  motives.  By  degrees 
^for  I  have  not  the  strength  to  relate  to  you  all  of 
the  partioulars—she  led  me  to  abandon  my  own  Pro* 
tescaut  faith,  and  to  embrace  Bomanism-^uutil,  at 
the  end  of  the  second  year,  I  fouud  myself  a  novice, 
fully  committed  to  take  the  vows  of  poverty,  chas- 
tity, and  obedience— aud  eventually  I  became  a  nun ; 
my  parents,  however,  beiug  kept  in  profound  ignor* 
auce  of  the  whole  matter,  until  the  final  step  had 
beeu  irretrievably  takeu.  My  mother,  as  I  have 
siuce  learued  accidentally,  when  informed  of  it,  took 
to  her  bed,  aud  never  left  it  until  carried  to  hat 
grave.  My  father  has  more  than  once  applied  at  th<d 
door  of  the  convent,  for  permission  to  see  me,  but 
without  my  knowledge,  and  in  my  name  has  been 
refused ;  beiug  told  that  I  did  not  wish  to  see  him ; 
aud,  when  it  was  too  late,  I  have  been  told  of  his 
visit,  fur  the  purpose  of  harrowing  my  feelings,  and 
nmkiiig  my  sufferings  the  greater.  I  know  not  whe«, 
ther  lie  is  yet  alive  or  not."  Here  Sister  Theresa's 
tears  interrupted  her  narrative ;  and  she  was  com- 
pelled to  pause,  for  a  few  minutes,  while  she  gave 
vent  to  them.  Then,  resuming  the  story  of  her  mis- 
fortunes, she  said— 

*' After  the  imposing  ceremony,  which  attending 
my  adopting  the  religious  habit,  had  been  gone 
through  with,  and  I  had  time  to  sit  down,  and  calm- 
ly reflect  upon  what  I  had  done,  I  found  mys'?  i  % 
prey  to  the  keenest  self-reproaches  for  my  folly, 
aud  to  irrepressible  longings  after  my  home  and  my 
dear  friends.  I  found,  too,  that  the  manner  of  the 
Mother  Superior  was  wholly  changed  tcAordsme. 
She  no  longer  invited  mo  to  her  private  parlour, 
yrhere  I  had  spent  so  many  happy  hours.  She  no 
lougerniet  me  with  kind  words  and  loving  looks; 
but,  m  the  place  of  these,  had  assumed  towards  me 


.V  'f^ 


^ 


w 


Mmm 


84 


SrrSTBBIES  OF  JL  OOirVSKT* 


an  aspect  of  cold  and  haughty  control,  and  kepi  me 
at  a  most  cruel  distance.  I  was  suhjected  to  meni. 
al  offices,  to  heavy  tasks,  and  to  severe  penanoea, 
which  serioasly  affected  my  health.  I  had  no  amuse- 
ments, no  rolazatious — I  was  cut  off  from  all  those 
associations  and  endearments  after  which  my  heart 
yearned,  and  for  the  eujoyment  of  which  I  felt  my- 
self qualified  by  the  possession  of  a  warm  aud  gen« 
erous  nature.  In  short,  I  was  buried  alive.  In  vain 
I  sought  for  some  one  into  whose  bosom  I  could  pour 
the  tale  of  my  sorrows,  even  among  those  around  me 
who  were  as  unhappy  as  I ;  for  so  completely  were 
they  under  the  tyrannical  control  of  the  Mother  Su- 
perior, that,  when  once  or  twice  I  sought  cousola* 
tion  from  this  source,  my  confidence  was  betrayed, 
aud  severe  punishment  was  the  consequence.  My 
Father  Confessor  made  dishonourable  proposals  to 
me,  and  I  spurned  him  from  me ;  but  the  tempter 
came  in  the  garb  of  an  angel  of  light,  holding  the 
olive  branch  of  friendship  in  his  hand,  and  with 
the  sweet  words  of  sympathy  upon  his  oily  tougue 
--I  could  not  resist  him— and  fell.  O  horrible  fall! 
how  fearfully  punished !  The  tempter  was  the  lover 
of  the  Mother  Superior ;  she  found  it  out,  and,  not 
daring  to  punish  him,  although  it  led  to  a  terrific 
scene  between  them,  which  had  like  to  have  result- 
ed in  very  serious  consequences  to  both,  but  was  at 
length  compromised,  and  a  reconciliation  took  place; 
her  jealousv  and  wrath  found  their  mark  in  me ;  and 
mv  untimely  and  painful  death  is  the  result.  But 
what  wonder  that  I  fell  beneath  the  insidious  ap- 
proaches of  the  wily  Father  General,  who  knew  all 
the  loneliness  of  a  poor  nun's  life,  the  yearnings  of 
her  heart  after  kindness,  and  the  sufferings  and  bit- 
ter disappointments  which  I  had  previously  endured* 
What  wonder  that  I  should  first  feel  grateful  to  him 
who  spoke  to  me  the  only  words  of  soothing  which 
fell  upon  my  greedy  ears;  that  I  should  then  love 
him ;  and  then •    Bat|  dear  Julia,  do  not  deipiaa 


"^-^^ilf- 


BnnSTBBXB8  OV  ▲  OONVBNT. 


85 


me— do  not  forsake  me.  I  have  repented  in  dust 
and  ashes ;  I  trust  there  is  mercy  in  heayen  for  me, 
who  have  been  so  bitterly  deceived  on  earth.  For 
years  I  have  endured  a  liviii)^  death ;  and  since  my 
health  has  failed  me,  and  I  have  no  longer  been  able 
to  render  any  service  to  the  establishment — a  period 
Of  thirteen  months,  during  most  of  which  time  I 
have  beeu  confined  to  my  bed — I  have  been  wholly 
neglected  by  both  the  Superior  and  the  nuns,  save 
as  necessity  required  their  attention  at  distant  in- 
tervals. Even  the  Father  Confessor  has  yisited  me 
but  once,  and  then  at  my  own  most  urgent  request : 
until  you,  my  dear  Julia,  accideutally  discovered  me, 
and  began  that  series  of  kindnesses  which  has  lit 
np  the  gloom  of  my  sick  room,  and  alleviated  my 
sufferings  to  so  great  an  extent.  God  bless  you  for 
it,  noble-hearted  girl !" 

It  had  cost  the  nun  a  great  effort  to  make  this  re- 
cital to  Julia  ;and  it  had  been  frequently  interrupt- 
ed by  a  gush  of  tears,  or  the  hard,  dry  cough  which 
was  rapidly  taking  her  to  the  grave ;  and,  when  she 
had  concluded  it,  she  fell  back  exhausted  on  her  pal- 
let. Her  kind  nurse  administered  some  cordials 
which  she  had  brought  with  her— the  purchase  of 
her  own  pocket-money— and,  after  lying  quietly  for 
some  time,  Sister  Theresa,  turning  to  her  with  a 
countenance  upon  which  the  seal  of  death  was  legi- 
bly impressed,  said  to  her:— 

"  May  heaven  reward  you,  dear  Julia,  for  your 
goodness ;  I  cannot  in  any  other  wav  than  by  my 
poor  thanks.  But  let  me  most  earnestly  entreat  you 
to  heed  the  warning  which  I  have  given  you,  in  this 
relation  of  my  sad  life  since  I  entered  this  prison, 
O,  if  you  would  not  bring  sorrow  upon  your  rela- 
tions; if  you  would  not  have  every  kindly  affection, 
every  generous  emotion,  every  faculty  of  mind! 
crushed,  and  seared  and  withered— if  you  would 
not  Uve  with  a  burning  void  within  your  bosom^a 
oaviDg  appetits  after  irieadship^  and  lo?Sb  ud  aooU 


86 


anrSTEBTKS  OV  ▲  OOHTEirF. 


al  happiness,  which  is  doomed  oeyet  to  he  satisfied ; 
if  you  would  not  witness  sceues  which  curdle  the 
blood,  and  freeze  the  very  soul— if  you  would  not 
loath  yourself  and  all  about  you— if  you  would  not 
be  tempted,  as  I  have  been,  almost  daily,  to  com« 
mit  suicide,  as  affording  the  only  means  of  escape 
from  conventual  pollution  and  imprisoonieiit-if 
would  not  die,  at  the  last,  away  from  your  kindred 
and  friends,  deserted  by  all,  as  I  am— by  all  but 
you,  whom  Qod  seems  to  have  sent  to  me  as  an  an. 
gel  of  mercy,  to  pity  her  whom  her  race  contemns— 
O  !  if  you  would  escape  all  of  those  evils,  aye,  ten 
thousand  more;  I  beseech  you,  never  consent  to 
become — " 

"Vile  wretch  !  what  means  this?"  cried,  or  ra- 
ther shrieked,  the  Mother  Superior,  who,  foi  the 
first  time,  alarmed  at  Julia's  long  visit  to  the  sick 
nun,  had  crept  stealthily  up  stairs,  and  arrived  in 
time  to  overhear  the  last  sentence  or  two  of  the 
charge  which  had  just  been  uttered,  or  rather  soab- 
rupilv  interrupted  by  her  exclamation.  When  Ju- 
lia, almost  beside  herself  with  terror,  looked  around 
to  discover  the  source  from  which  this  interru[)tion 
came,  she  beheld  the  Superior,  standing  in  the  door- 
way, pale  with  rage,  her  eye  flashing;  fire,  and  her 
hand  uplifted  as  though  she  would  smite  the  poor 
Tiotim,  lying  helpless  on  the  couch  of  suffering. 

But  that  victim  was  beyond  the  reach  of  her  ma- 
lice—she was  dead ;  and  the  other,  whom  she  was 
about  to  immolate  on  the  altar  of  religious  hi^otry, 
bad  escaped  her  coils.  The  scales  had  fallen  from 
her  e^es;  the  delusion  had  been  dissipated,  as  the 
morning  mist ;  she  seemed  to  have  awoke  from  some 
dream  which  had  fast  bound  her  senses  in  illusion, 
and  to  have  become  sensible  of  the  realities  which 
Borrounded  her,  threatening  her  destruction. 

The  Mother  Superior  saw  it  all  at  a  glance—saw, 
too,  that  her  passion  had  betrayed  her,  and  had 
terved  to  make  tho  matter  woxM;bat|OQuMe&tm 


nSTlsfBXES  OF  A.  OONVXNT. 


87 


her  own  abilities,  and  fondly  hopinj?  that  she  could 
yet  recover  the  Rrouud  which  she  had  lost,  set  her- 
self about  the  work,  with  iiitiiiite  address.  It  was, 
however,  too  late.  Overcome  with  excess  of  emo- 
tion, Julia  sat  weeping  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
The  Superior,  putting  her  arm  around  her.  and  gen- 
tly bidilin?  her  arise,  left  the  death -ciiamber,  care- 
fully locking  the  door  behind  them,  and  led  her 
down  stairs  to  her  own  bed-room,  where,  laying  her 
upon  her  own  soft  couch,  she  told  her  to  compose 
herself,  and  try  to  sleep.  Then,  entering  the  adjoin- 
ing room,  which  we  have  said  was  fitted  up  as  an 
oratory,  and  which  contained  an  escritoire  in  which 
she  deposited  her  valuable  papers,  she  took,  from  a 
secret  drawer,  a  letter  received  that  morning,  and 
which  she  perused  with  Great  attention.  It  ran  thus : 

«'  New  York,  July  10, 1812. 

"  To  the  Mother  Superior  of  the  Conyent  of  the 
Annunciation. 

**DeabMadah, 

"  I  have  just  been  informed,  l>y  the  Father  Bean- 
pres,  resident  at  B^ton  Bouge,  Louisiana,  that  the 
lather  of  Emilie  de  Yere,  now  the  Sister  Theresa,  a 
member  of  the  convent  under  your  spiritual  govern- 
ment, has  recently  died,  leavincr  an  immense  estate, 
and  makin?  provision,  by  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment, that  his  only  daughter,  this  same  Emilie,  shall 
inherit  *  the  whole  property,  if  she  will  renounce  the 
Boman  Catholic  faith,  and  leave  the  convent  in  which 
she  is;'  and  that,  in  the  event  of  her  refusing  to 
do  80,  the  said  property  shall  go  to  distant  relations, 
in  France,  the  daughter  having  nothing. 

**I  wish  you  to  converse  with  the  Sister  Theresa, 
and  devise  some  plan  by  means  of  which  this  in- 
heritance can  be  secured  to  the  order.  I  shall  re- 
pair to  the  convent  on  the  fifth  day  from  the  date  of 
this  letter*        **  1  remain  as  ever,  yours, 

**  Fbanoois  Jvbbrt. 
^  Father  Qeneral,  fto.** 


88 


ICTSTBBXBS  OV  A,  OOWEXTS. 


:l 


The  Mother  Superior  felt  gredtly  agitated,  as  she 

S erased  this  document,  and  scarcely  knew  what  to 
o.  Here  was  an  immeuse  fortune  within  the  ^^rasp 
of  the  order ;  hut  she  upon  whose  life  it  depetided 
was  dead.  True,  no  one  knew  it  as  yet,  hesides 
herself  and  Julia  ;  hut  she  had  reason  to  believe  that 
Julia  had  heard  enough,  from  the  lips  of  the  dying 
nun,  to  have  influenced  her  mind  unfavourubly  to- 
wards the  order,  and,  perhaps,  to  haye  undoue  the 
entire  work  of  the  last  fifteen  months.  0,  how 
deeply  she  regretted  her  want  of  consideration,  ia 
permitting  Julia  to  attend  upon  the  sick  nun ;  but 
BO  fully  had  she  succeeded,  as  she  thought,  in  the 
work  that  she  had  planned  and  executed  as  re- 

garded  the  former,  and  such  was  the  tyrannical  dread 
1  which  she  held  every  member  of  the  household, 
that  she  could  not  suppose  it  possible  that  the  latter 
would  have  dared  to  say  one  word  to  Julia  about  the 
past;  until  her  apprehension  hpriug  been  excited 
by  her  pupil's  long  absence, — for  she  had  not  come 
down  to  the  dinner- table,  as  usual,— she  had  ascend- 
ed to  the  sick  chaixiber,  and  there  overheard  a  por- 
tion of  what  passed,  as  has  already  been  seen. 
Should  Julia,  when  she  went  out  among  the  boar- 
ders, make  known  the  fact  of  the  nun's  death,  it 
would  for  ever  destroy  all  hope  of  securing  the  in- 
heritance; and  even  if  she  could  prevent  this,  which 
Would  he  a  very  difficult  affair,  because  of  the  im- 
pression that  it  might  make  upon  her  own  mind, 
still  the  dead  body  was  in  the  house,  and  must  be 
disposed  of  in  some  way,  without  the  knowledge  of 
any  member  of  the  household.  She  bit  her  lips  in 
▼ery  intensity  of  thought ;  and  her  feelings  were 
wrought  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  excitement,  by  her 
malignity  to  the  dead  nun,  who,  she  feared,  had 
achieved,  although  unconsciously,  a  wonderful  re- 
tribution upon  herself  and  upon  the  order,  for  the 
wrouffs  which  she  had  endured  at  their  hands;  bv 
apprehentioii  that  Julia  was  lost  to  the  conyen^ 


^itated,  as  she 
knew  what  to 
thin  the  ^rasp 
fe  it  dejiended, 
L8  yet,  hesides 
to  believe  that 
8  of  the  dying 
favourably  to- 
ve  undouethe 
iths.      0,  how 
)usideratioD,  in 
I  Bick  nun ;  but 
thought,  in  the 
zecuted  as  re- 
y  r  an  nical  dread 
the  household, 
)  that  the  latter 
Julia  about  the 
g  been  excited 
)  had  not  come 
she  had  ascend- 
verheard  a  per- 
idy  been  seen. 
mongj  the  boar- 
nun's  death,  it 
securinj?  the  in- 
vent this,  which 
auae  of  the  im- 
ler  owu  mind, 
ae,  and  must  he 
)e  knowledsieol 
e  bit  her  lips  itt 
r  feelings  were 
.temeiit,  by  her 
she  feared,  had 
_.  wonderful  re- 
le  order,  for  the 

heir  hands;  dt 
10  the  convent, 


mrSTEBIES  OV  ▲  CONVENT. 


89 


tinleBS  somethiug  oould  be  done  to  prevent  it ;  and 
bv  anxiety  to  bnng  order  out  of  this  chaos,  and  vic- 
tory out  of  this  apparent  defeat ;  when  she  heard  a 
ffentle  rap  at  her  chamber  door.  Instantly  passing 
^mthe  oratory  into  her  bed-room,  where  Julia 
still  lay  upon  her  couch,  she  opened  the  door,  where 
stood  a  servant  to  inform  her  that  a  gentleman 
wished  to  see  her  in  the  parlour.  Not  supposing, 
for  a  moment,  that  it  might  be  Mr.  Moreton— whom 
of  all  other  persons  she  least  wished  to  see  at  that 
time,— she  hastened  to  the  room  where  he  awaited 
her ;  neglecting,  as  she  left  her  cb amber,  to  close 
the  door  behind  her.  Presently,  Julia,  overhearing 
the  altercation  between  her  father  and  the  Superior, 
and  recognising  the  voice  of  the  former,  flew  down 
the  stairway,  and  rushed  into  her  father's  arms,  as 
has  before  been  related,  and  thus  escaped  from  the 
dangers  which  were  becoming  so  imminent  around 
her. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

The  Mother  Superior  outwitted— Cursing  and  prayiDg* 
Hasty  summons  to  the  Father  General— Insulting  the 
dead— Jesuitical  conduct. 

When  Mr.  Moreton  bore  Julia  away  from  the  par- 
lour of  the  convent,  the  Mother  Superior  stood  in 
speechless  amazement,  for  an  instant,  and  then,  has- 
tening to  the  front  door,  watched  his  rapid  progress 
along  the  avenue,  un\';il  he  was  lost  to  her  sight, 
when,  like  ore  who  had  been  spell-bound  under  the 
influence  of  the  night-mare,  she  seemed  to  become 
suddenly  aware  that  something  must  be  done,  or 
Jnlia,  her  victim,  would  be  lost  to  her  for  ever,  and 
the  harvest  of  all  her  schemings  be  destroyed.  Just 
at  the  moment  when  it  was  ripe  for  the  sickle  of  the 
reaper. 

Fulling  violently  the  hall-bell,  she  ordered  the 


A 


224 


B 


M 


MtSTSBtEd  Olf  A  CO^lVWiti. 


servant  who  answered  the  summons,  to  call  i^o 
male  servants  that  belonged  to  the  establisbmeDt, 
and  were  at  work  in  the  garden ;  but  whether,  dur- 
ing the  interval  that  elapsed  before  they  made  their 
appearance,  she  had  concluded  that  any  further 
steps  woula  be  imprudent,  on  her  part,  at  that  time, 
or  because  she  thought  it  too  late  to  attempt  to  bring 
back  the  fugitives,  her  purposes  were  changed ;  for, 
when  the  servants  came,  she  dismissed  them,  aud, 
with  a  di<*uified,  though  somewhat  quickened  step,, 
ascended  the  great  hall  stairs  to  her  private  room. 

Here,  carefully  fastening  the  door,  she  threw  her- 
self at  full  length  upou  a  lounge,  at  one  side  of  the 
room ;  and,  placing  her  hand  upon  her  forehead,  as 
though  she  were  in  pain,  while  her  eyes  were  almost 
ready  to  start  from  their  sockets,  she  gave  vent  to 
the  most  violent  outbursts  of  passion  ;  bitterly  curs- 
ing all  heretics,  and  calling  down  the  direst  male- 
dictions upon  Mr.  Moretou  and  his  rescued  daugh- 
ter. And  then,  her  thoughts  recurring  to  the  scene 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  room  of  the  d  jin^  nun, 
she  arose  hastily  from  her  recumbent  position,  aud 
strode  towards  the  door,  as  if  she  were  about  to  exe- 
cute some  hurriedly-formed  purpose ;  but,  ere  she 
had  placed  her  hand  upon  the  fastening,  she  paused, 
for  a  moment,  and,  retracing  her  steps,  continued  to 
walk  from  one  end  of  the  large  apartment  to  the 
other,  for  some  length  of  time ;  her  steps  at  first  ra- 
pid and  excited,  but  gradually  becoming  more  mea- 
sured ;  until,  at  length,  entering  through  the  secret 
pannel  into  her  bed-chamber,  and  thence  into  the 
oratory,  and  kneeling  down  before  the  crucifix,  she 
remained  for  some  time  with  her  head  bowed  in 
prayer,  occasionally  heaving  a  convulsive  sob,  indi- 
cative of  the  extent  to  which  her  feelings  had  been 
excited. 

Arising  presently  from  her  kneeling  position,  with 
the  traces  of  tears  upon  her  cheeks,  she  approached 
the  escritoire,  ood,  drawing  forth  the  necessary oste* 
liiili|  wrote  e  notCi  of  which  the  foUowiog  iiepopys 


I,  to  call  two 
eatablishment, 
whether,  dur- 
ley  made  their 
t  any  further 
't,  at  that  time, 
ttempttohring 
)  changed ;  for, 
led  them,  and, 
quickened  atep^ 
private  room, 
she  threw  her- 
,  one  side  of  the 
tier  forehead,  as 
lyes  were  almost 
tie  gave  vent  to 
1 ;  bitterly  curs- 
he  direst  male- 
rescued  daugh- 
iog  to  the  scene 
,1  the  dying  nun, 
nt  position,  and 
ire  about  to  exe- 
,e;  but,  ere  she 
ling,  she  paused, 
>p8,  contiiiuedto 
apartment  to  the 
steps  at  first  ra- 
ming  more  mea- 
irough  the  8ecwt 
thence  lutotne 
the  crucifix,  ihe 
head  bowed  in 
/ul8iveBob,indi- 
leelings  had  been 

Lff  position,  with 
L^Vapproached 

Boecessarymsw; 
nowlBgiiieopjJ 


attrsTBTiiBS  Of  ▲  ooTsmsM. 


91 


<*  Cawoenl  of  Annunciation^  JvXy  12, 1812. 
**  To  the  Beverend  Father  General. 

««  Most  Bevbbend  and  Deab  Sib, 
*<  Your  favour  of  the  10th  instant  was  received  by 
me  this  morning.     Business  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance connected  with  its  contents,  requires  your  pre- 
sence here  without  delay.      Please  lose  no  time  in 

coming. 

'^  Yours,  most  respectfully  and  truly, 

"  Feanobs. 
"  Mother  Superior,  &c." 
Having  folded  and  sealed  this  note,  she  returned 
to  her  chamber,  and  pulled  hastily  the  bell^oord 
which  hung  near  her  bed.  On  a  nun  appearing,  in 
answer  to  the  summons,  she  placed  the  notein  ner 
hands,  and  bade  her  give  it  to  the  Porter,  with  or- 
ders to  take  it  instantly  to  New  York,  and,  riding 
day  and  night,  deliver  it  to  the  Father  General. 
Then,  re-entering  the  oratory,  to  see  if  all  were  there 
in  a  position  to  be  left,  she  fastened  her  escritoire, 
and  went  up  stairs  to  the  death  room. 

How  silent  was  all  ther^l  The  cold  and  pallid 
remains  of  the  Sister  Theresa  lay  upon  the  pallet, 
just  as  when  the  Mother  Superior  had  left  the  room 
with  Julia,  after  having  precipitated  the  death  of 
the  poor  nun,  by  her  sudden  appearance  and  harsh 
exclamation,  but  a  short  while  before.  Although 
fearfully  emaciated  and  wasted  with  disease,  the 
death-like  features  still  showed  traces  of  former 
loveliness;  and  there  sat  upon  the  marble  counten- 
ance a  smile,  as  though,  just  at  the  moment  of  de- 
parture, the  penitent  had  caught  a  bright  vision  of 
Mercy  stooping  from  Heaven  to  pity  and  to  save. 

The  Mother  Superior  stood  for  a  few  moments, 
looking  upon  the  face  of  the  dead,  and,  catching  at 
length  the  expression  of  that  smile,  ground  her  teeth 
with  very  rage.  , 

"  What,''  said  the,  at  though  speaking  to  the  life- 
loM  body-.«8mmng  artthoaP    SmUingat  me, at 


M 


SmrsTBBIBS  OV  ▲  OOnVBMV. 


*  though  thou  hadst  gained  a  victory  over  me  P  Dost 
thou  mook  me,  now  thou  art  dead,  as  thou  didst 
thwart  me  while  living  P  Would  thou  were  capable 
of  feeling,  that  I  might  pnnish  thee,  vile  remains  of 
a  most  worthless  being.  But  know,  Emilie  de  Yere, 
whether  thy  polluted  spirit  hovers  still  in  this  room, 
or  !■  suffering  purgatorial  pain  in  the  regions  of 
woe ;  know  that  Louise  St.  Aubyn  has  never  been 
defeated  yet.  She  has  been  cruellv  deceived  ;  but 
she  has  had  her  revenge.  Aye,  and  she  will  yet  be 
still  more  fullv  avenged  upon  the  vile  paramour  that 
wrought  thy  fall  :->the  only  virtuous  act  of  all  his 
life.  Know,  too,  that,  though  thou  didst  turn  trai- 
tor, and  reveal  to  Julia  that  which  has  poisoned  her 
mind  against  my  order,  I  will  be  revenged  there. 
Poor  fool !  she  thinks  that,  because  she  is  iu  her  fa- 
ther's  house,  she  is  beyoud  my  power.  But,  by  the 
Holy  Virgin,  and  by  all  the  Saints  iu  Hoaven,  I 
swear  to  move  the  skies  above,  and  earth  and  hell 
beneath,  to  work  her  ruin.  She  shall  not  escape  me. 
Jalia  shall  yet  be  the  vile,  polluted,  worthless  thing 
thou  art  and  has  been." 

Thus  iu  suiting  the  lifeless  clay,  and  venting  her 
ra^e  upon  its  unheeding  ears,  the  Mother  Superior 
stood  for  some  minutes,  until  the  approaching  shades 
of  evening  reminded  her  that  she  had  but  little  time 
left  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  purpose  which 
had  brought  her  to  that  death  chamber ;  which  was, 
to  gather  together  whatever  papers  she  might  per- 
ohanoe  find  in  the  trunk  of  the  deceased,  that  could 
possibly  be  made  to  subserve  the  interests  of  the  or- 
der, in  procuring  possession  of  the  coveted  inheri- 
tance. Finding  nothing,  however,  she  closed  the 
door,  carefully  locking  it,  and,  leaving  the  dead  neg- 
lected as  the  living  had  been,  descended  to  her  room. 

Let  not  the  reader  imagine,  for  a  moment,  that  the 
character  of  the  Mother  Superior  has  been  toodaik* 
I7  drawn.  It  is  the  character  of  one  who,  under  the 
inAiieDce  of  a  dark  and  gloomy  form  of  snperstitioiii 


inrSTZBXBS  ov  ▲  cozitzkt. 


M 


•ad  under  the  training  of  a  master  mind,  waa  fnllj 
prepared  for  the  indolgenoe  of  every  evil  motioni  the 
perpetration  of  everv  crime ;  while  the  blaok  heart 
witnin  was  covered  over  with  a  self-control  which 
was  imperturbable,  when  circumstances  required  its 
exercise ;  and  an  hypocrisy,  refined,  elegant,  and  ex- 
quisite. In  short,  the  Mother  Superior  was  a  Je- 
suit, and  a  fair  type  of  her  order.  None  but  a  Je- 
suit could  have  gone  from  that  death  scene,  and  from 
the  agitating  deliberations  of  the  oratory,  into  the 
presence  of  a  man  whose  anger  she  had  just  reasons 
to  dread,  and  yet  preserve  a  cool  self-possession, 
and  a  control  over  her  temper,  which  would  indicate 
a  life  free  from  all  disquiet  and  given  up  to  re- 
ligious devotion,  but  most  strikingly  in  contrast  with 
the  emotions  which  were  at  that  moment  agitating 
her  bosom.  None  but  a  Jesuit  could  have  risen  from 
prayer,  and,  in  a  few  minutes  after,  stand  by  the 
dead  body  of  one  who  had  fallen  a  victim  to  her  jea- 
lousy and  wrath,  and  deliberately  mock  and  curse 
that  helpless  mass  of  inanimate  day.  8he  was  a  Je- 
suit ;  and,  when  this  is  said,  we  cease  to  wonder  at 
what  would  otherwise  be  inexplicable. 


CHAPTER  XVm. 

The  Father  General  obeys  the  summons  In  haste— Meeting 
between  him  and  the  Mother  Superior— A  vile  plot  con- 
ducted between  them—The  Mother  Superior  m  a  new 
character— The  Father  General  turned  grave-digger^ 
ReToIting  manner  of  burying  the  dead. 

Thb  messenger  who  had  been  despatched  with  the 
note  to  the  city,  with  orders  to  ride  day  and  night, 
had  complied  strictly  with  his  iTistructions,  and  ar- 
med at  the  residence  of  the  Father  General,  by  dav- 
Hght  the  next  morning ;  and  the  missive  which  he 
bore  was  handed  to  the  latter,  before  he  had  yet 
risen  from  his  bed.  Having  read  its  undent  contents, 
be  nnmediately  ordered  a  horse  for  £imself|auda 


W 


M 


XTffTBBZBS  OV  ▲  OOTXYBM* 


rn 

m 


fmh  one  for  the  meuenger,  and,  as  loon  at  he  had 
eaten  an  early  breakfast,  started  for  theoonvent; 
where  hj  diot  of  riding  very  ooustantlj,  and  as  fast 
as  his  animal,  which  was  a  very  fleet  one,  could  safe- 
ly be  pushed,  he  arriyed  at  five  o'clock  on  the  af  tcN 
noon  of  the  day  after  the  nun's  death. 

The  mother  Superior  met  him  at  the  front  door,  as 
he  dismounted  from  Lis  jaded  horse,  and  conducted 
him  at  once  into  the  oratory,  where,  with  as  little 
delay  as  possible,  she  made  him  acquainted  with  the 
present  positiou  of  things,  both  as  regarded  the  de- 
cease of  the  Sister  Theresa,  and  the  escape  of  Julia, 
and  asked  his  advice. 

The  Father  General  saw,  at  once,  the  difficulties 
which  were  involved  in  the  affair ;   but,  with  the 
readiness  of  invention  for  which  the  Jesuit  is  so  re- 
markable, and  for  which  he  in  particular  was  so  dis- 
tinguished, proposed  that  the  dead  body  should  be 
buried,  that  night,  quietly^  without  the  knowled;^e 
of  any  member  of  the  family ;  and,  in  order  to  this, 
the  Mother  Superior  and  himself  must  perform  the 
duty.      This  being  accomplished,  it  would  be  their 
next  busiiiess  to  substitute  some  one  for  the  deceas- 
ed, who  might  bear  some  resemblance  to  her ;  to  pro- 
cure witnesses  from  without  the  establishment,  to 
swear  that  she  was  the  true  Emilie  de  Vere.     This 
could  be  more  easily  done,  as  the  proof  would  have 
to  be  made  in  Louisiana,  and  not  in  New  York.  The 
members  of  the  convent  knew  nothing  of  the  death 
of  Sister  Theresa,  and  could  be  kept  in  entire  ignor- 
ance of  it,  by  raising  a  report,  in  the  establishmeDt, 
that  she  had  fled,  which  would  account  for  her  ab- 
sence ;  though,  indeed,  such  was  the  ne^^lect  with 
which  the  poor  nun  had  been  treated  in  the  last  few 
weeks  of  her  illness,  especially  as  it  was  generally 
known  by  those  who  had  previously  attended  to  her 
at  all,  that  Julia  had  undertaken  to  be  her  nurse, 
that  not  a  single  member  of  the  household  knew  any 
thing  i^bout  her  real  conditioni  during  that  time.  As 


ICVITSBXI8  Of  ▲  oonmatf. 


Of 


for  Julia,  the  would  in  all  probability  neTer  baar  of 
the  matter  of  the  inheritance ;  and,  uneoesiary,  she 
ooold  be  watched.  Should  she  or  any  of  her  fifiends 
make  any  attempt  to  interfere  in  the  affair,  she  must 
be  kept  out  of  the  way,  and  silenced,  at  all  haiards, 
and  by  whatever  means. 

This  outline  of  a  plan  of  operations  was  freely  dis« 
cussed  by  the  two  counsellors,  and  at  length  adopt- 
edt  as  the  ver^  best  under  the  circumstances.  The 
Mother  Superior  then  ordered  some  supper  for  the 
Father  General  to  be  {placed  in  the  private  parlour  ; 
and,  leaving  him  to  finish  this,  she  went  up  alone  to 
the  death  chamber,  to  prepare  the  body  for  burial ; 
while  he  would  repair  to  the  garden,  to  see  what 
could  be  done  there  towards  prepariug  a  grave. 

Taking  with  her  a  needle  and  some  thread,  she  en- 
tered the  room  where  the  body  lay,  and  was  surpris- 
ed  to  find  it  much  iu  the  same  state  in  which  she  had 
left  it  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and  that  there  was 
a  very  slight  indication  of  decay  perceptible.  The 
same  smile  sat  upon  the  countenance,  and  produced 
the  same  state  of  angry  feeling  iu  her  mind,  but  she 
was  iu  no  mood  to  tarry  in  that  remote  and  lonely 
part  of  the  convent,  without  any  other  company  than 
that  of  the  deceased  nun,  she  hurriedly  and  rudely 
sewed  up  the  body  in  the  sheet  upon  which  it  was; 
and,  leaving  it  thus  without  any  other  preparation, 
returned  to  the  room  iu  which  mo  had  left  the  Fa- 
ther General. 

The  latter  had  in  the  meanwhile,  selected  for  the 
Rrave  a  sunken  spot  in  the  extreme  distant  corner  of 
the  garden,  which  was  depressed  some  two  feet  in 
the  earth,  and  which,  indeed,  had  much  the  appear- 
auce  of  an  old  grave.  This  spot  he  had  noticed  be- 
fore, in  walking  through  the  garden ;  and  it  had  in- 
stantly occurred  to  him  that  it  would  serve  the  pur« 
pose,  with  very  little  preparation.  There  was  an 
f  1  r  t^"®®  of  quick  lime  always  kept  about  the  es* 
tabhbhment ;  and,  by  digging  the  grave  ^  foot  deep. 


^i-m 


V 


06 


mrsTESiBS  ov  ▲  ooktbkt. 


! 


Mp*Ti 


er,  puttini^  on  th«  body  plenty  of  tbis  lima,  and  fill- 
ing op  the  opening  to  within  a  few  inches  of  the  sur- 
faoe,  ooyering  the  whole  with  rubbish,  it  would  never 
be  discoTered;  espeoiallv  as  it  was  situated  where 
nothing;  was  cultivated,  that  season.  Had  there  not 
been  sufficient  reasons  why  no  member  of  the  family 
should  have  any  knowledge  of  what  was  transpir- 
ing, lest  it  should  come  to  the  ears  of  some  of  the 
mapy  boarding  pupils  then  in  the  establishment,  the 
body  might  have  been  disposed  of  in  a  deep  vault 
nnder  a  wing  of  the  building,  which  was  constructed 
there  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  such  remains  as 
they  did  not  wish  to  bury,  or  to  attach  much  notice 
to ;  where  these  were  speedily  destroyed  by  means 
of  quick  lime.  But,  as  this  was  only  accessible  by 
going  through  a  portion  of  the  establishment  where 
they  could  hardly  hope  to  avoid  notice,  the  spot  in 
the  garden  was  preferred. 

Sometime  after  the  convent  clock  told  the  hour  of 
ten,  an  hour  at  which,  by  the  rules  of  the  house, 
every  inmate  of  the  family  must  be  in  bed,  the  Fa- 
ther General  proceeded  to  the  garden,  and,  furnish- 
ing himself  with  the  necessary  tools,  from  a  small 
building  in  which  they  were  kept,  had  succeeded,  in 
the  course  of  a  couple  of  hours,  in  making  ready  the 
receptacle  for  the  last  repose  of  the  very  nun,  who, 
three  years  before,  had  met  him  in  that  same  ;iarden, 
at  the  dead  hour  of  midnight,  and  whom  ho  bad  so 
basely  ruined  afterwards.  One  might  snppose  that 
the  whole  scene  would  have  come  up  in  his  mind, 
and  that  the  image  of  that  then  lovely  beiu^  would 
bave  haunted  his  memory  and  harrowed  his  soul, 
while  he  was  thus  engaged  in  preparing;  a  spot  to 
hide  her  body ;  and  so  it  did,  but  the  Jesuit  shook 
off  all  sense  of  uneasiness,  and  set  about  the  work 
with  all  his  physical  strength,  while  he  kept  his 
thoughts  bnsied  with  planning  for  the  future.  In 
spite  of  himself,  however,  when,  as  the  clock  sounded 
inidnighti  andi  returning  to  the  honaelor  the  coi^se^ 


ICT8TSBZ18  OV  ▲  OOVYBIIT* 


•7 


he  pa8Md  the  plum  tree  beneath  whioh  he  had  itood, 
three  yean  before,  with  hie  arm  around  the  nofor- 
tanate  Sister  Theresa,  he  started  involaDtarily,  and 
with  a  sbi'dder,  as,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  he 
thought  he  saw  hor  advancing  to  meet  him ;  and  it 
was  no  small  relief  to  his  feeliugs,  when  he  discover- 
ed that  it  was  the  Mother  Superior,  who  was  com- 
ing to  see  what  progress  he  had  made. 

Fully  realizing  the  extreme  delicacy  of  his  posi- 
tion, under  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  sur- 
rounded both  of  them  on  this  occasion,  and  in  the 
existence  of  recollections  which  came  up  fresh  to  the 
memories  of  both,  while  neither  dared  to  make  auv 
allusion  to  them,  the  Father  General  gracefully  oU 
fered  his  arm  to  the  Mother  Superior,  and,  playfully 
complimeutiug  her  upon  her  good  looks,  led  nor  to 
the  house. 

'Here,  quietly  ascending  to  the  room  iu  which  the 
dead  nun  lay,  the  Superior  locked  the  door,  and  bode 
the  General  enter ;  narrowly  observing  his  counten- 
ance as  he  approached  the  bed-side,  while  she  held 
a  candle  in  her  hand,  and,  as  she  perceived  a  slight 
slmdder  fo  pass  through  his  frame  as  he  took  the 
body  in  his  arms,  and  threw  it  upon  his  shoulder,  a 
scornful  smile  might  have  been  seen  upon  her  proud 
features ;  but  which  she  took  good  care  should  not 
be  witnessed  by  him. 

They  tlius  passed  down  again  to  the  garden ;  the 
Motlier  superior  bearing  iu  her  hand  a  bucket  of 
lime,  which  she  had  previously  placed  near  the  door 
steps ;  and,  in  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  the  remaius 
of  Sister  Theresa,  unshrouded  and  uncofRned,  were 
resting  in  the  narrow  bed  prepared  for  her,  and  the 
spot  marked  only  by  the  up-piled  briars  and  rub- 
bish ;  while  the  Father  General  and  the  Mother  Su- 
perior were  seated  in  the  oratory  of  the  latter,  plot- 
ting how  they  might  secure  to  the  order  the  forge 
estate  of  her  father,  left  to  her  on  the  condition  of 
renouncing  the  Oatholio  faith,  and  throwing  asido 


•  mm 


..m 


»8 


UTSTESIilS  OV  ▲  COM  \  EXT* 


her  nuii'i  dress;  a  oondition  with  whioh  ihe  would 
most  gladly  have  oomplied,  had  she  heen  alive,  and 
had  it  been  in  her  power ;  though  poverty  for  her 
life  long,  and  not  unbounded  wealth,  had  been  the 
result.  She  had,  however^  exchanged  her  religioQ^ 
habit,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  for  one  of  glorious  sheen, 
and  her  prison*house  on  earth  for  a  noble  mansion 
in  the  skies.  The  quiet  smile  of  hope  which  played 
n;K>n  the  cold  features  of  the  day  which  her  freed 
spirit  had  left  behind,  gave  token  that,  though  un- 
friended here,  she  had  found  friends  there,  **  where 
the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  aud  the  weury  are 
for  ever  at  rest." 

An  Omniscient  eye,  however,  had  beheld  this  deed 
of  darkness;  and,  though  the  perpetrators  mi^'ht 
baffle  and  deceive  their  short-sighted  fellow-crea- 
tures, yet  they  could  not  escape  the  detection  of  Hiin 
who  seeth  all  things. 

The  next  morning,  just  at  daybreak,  the  Father 
General  was  seen  to  enter  his  own  room  on  the  first 
floor,  by  the  Sister  Porter,  as  she  descended  to  rincr 
the  bell  for  matins.  She  know  not  where  he  liud 
spent  the  night,  but  had  her  own  surmises,  whiuh, 
however,  prudent  woman  that  she  was,  she  ke^^t  to 
herself. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Duplicity— The  plot  thickens— Hewnrd  offered  for  the  mis- 
sing nun— A  sub»ititiue  found— A  thiid  party  in  the  plot 
—Threatened  tumult. 

Whkn  about  to  sit  down  to  the  breakfast- table,  the 
next  morning,  the  Mother  Superior,  turning  to  Sis- 
ter Martina,  in  the  most  natural  manner  ima«{iuable, 
as  if  it  were  an  every  day  occurrence,  told  her  to  go 
to  Sister  Theresa's  room,  and  see  if  she  wanted  any- 
thing ;  remarking,  as  she  did  so,  to  the  Father  Gen« 
eral^  that  this  Sister  had  been  sick,  for  some  length 
of  time,  and  that  she  was  afraid  she  would  continue 
to  bo  so,  for  some  weeks  longer,  though  she  did  not 
apprehend  a  serious  result  io  tbo  cas^t 


anrsTEBXss  or  ▲  oomrsiiT* 


99 


The  mornioff  meal  was  nearly  finithed,  when  Sie* 
tor  Martina  glided  into  the  room,  and,  in  what  was 
dengned  to  appear  as  a  whisper,  but  at  tiie  same 
time  to  be  overheard  by  the  Father  General,  she 
told  the  Motiier  Superior  that  Sister  Theresa  was 
not  in  her  room,  and  that  it  seemed  to  be  in  oonf  u- 
sion,  as  if  she  had  left  it  hastily. 

"  Not  iu  her  room  P'  repeated  the  Superior,  with 
well-affected  surprise. 

"No,  niadam/    answered  the  nnn. 

**  She  must  be  in  some  of  the  other  rooms,  in  the 
same  part  of  the  house,  then,"  returned  the  Supe- 
rior ;  **  go,  my  good  Martina,  and  see  if  she  is  not." 

**I  have  looked  into  them  all,"  was  the  response ; 
**  but  I  cannot  find  her  anywhere." 

"  *Ti8  very  strange,"  remarked  the  Superior—"  I 
do  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  Go,  Sister  Mar* 
tina,  into  every  room  in  the  house,  and  see  if  you 
can  find  her,  and  let  me  know  immediately,  for  I 
feel  uneasy  about  her."  Then,  turning  to  the  nuns 
and  boarders,  as  they  sat  in  long  lines  at  the  two 
tables,  she  asked  if  any  of  them  had  seen  Sister  The* 
resa  that  morning  ;  and,  as  might  be  expected,  was 
answered  in  the  negative. 

On  report  being  made  to  the  Mother  Superior  that 
the  missing  nun  could  not  be  found  anywhere  about 
the  house,  orders  were  given  that  the  well,  the  ds^, 
tern,  aud  all  of  the  places  into  which  it  was  possible 
that  she  might  have  fallen, if  iu  her  weakness  of  body 
she  had  attempted  to  pass  about  the  yard,  should  be 
strictly  searched ;  but  lu  vain,  she  was  still  unfound. 

The  Superior's  countenance  betrayed  a  great 
deal  of  wollfeigned  anxiety ;  the  Father  Gineral 
seemed  to  be  greatly  disturbed  ;  the  whole  house  was 
in  an  uproar— nuns  running  here  and  running  there 
—others  standing  about  iu  jjroups,  in  earnest  con- 
versation—all completely  mystified,  and  lost  iu  won- 
der at  80  strange  an  occurrence,  while  none  seemed 
to  be  more  so  than  the  two  individuals  present,  who 
knew  aU  about  th^  affair, 


t 


^  % 


.:■..  !  '4  '-'^ 


ir'i  1 


:ii 


100 


IR8TEBXS8  OF  A  OONVEHT. 


At  tonfftb,  when  all  further  search  appeared  to  be 
useless,  Uie  Mother  Superior,  speakings  so  as  to  be 
heard  bv  most  of  those  present,  requested  the  Father 
General  to  acoompany  her  to  her  private  parlour,  in 
order,  as  she  eaid,  that  she  might  consult  him  fur* 
ther  in  reference  to  this  truly  mysterious  disappear- 
ance of  one  of  their  number,  and  as  to  the  steps 
which  it  might  be  necessary  to  take  in  the  premises. 
Having  spent  a  half  hour  thus,  as  thefamily  sup- 
posed, tbey  again  apiieared  in  the  parlour,  in  the 
midst  of  the  assembled  nuns  and  boarders ;  uud  the 
Father  General  announced  tt  as  his  deliberate  opi- 
nion  that  the  missing  nun  had  escaped  from  the 
convent,  during  the  previous  night,  by  t])e  al]  of 
some  person  or  persons  unknown  ;  and,  calling  for 
his  horse,  intimated  his  intention  of  making  diligent 
search  for  her,  that  she  mi^ht  bo  apprehended  and 
brought  back ;  at  the  same  time,  requiring  the  Su« 
perior  to  degrade  the  Sister  Porti:r  from  her  office, 
for  vrant  of  due  vigilance  in  the  discharge  of  her 
duties,  unless  it  couM  be  made  to  appear  that  she 
was  not  to  blame.  So  saying,  and  giving  his  bles- 
sing to  all  present,  the  Father  General  mounted  his 
horse,  which  had  meanwhile  been  brought  to  the 
door,  and  returned  to  the  city. 

In  the  papers  of  the  following  day,  an  advertise- 
ment a][ipeare(l,  couched  in  such  language  as  tliis: 
"fifty  dollars  eeward. 

"Left  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation,  on  the 
night  uf  the  13th  instant,  in  a  state  of  mental  de- 
rangement, produced  by  fever,  a  nun,  who  is  doubt- 
less not  far  from  the  establishment,  but  who  has  not 
yet  been  found,  although  diligent  search  has  been 
made  for  her.  The  humane  will  greatly  relieve  the 
distresned  feelings  of  her  sister  nuns,  by  giving  any 
information  that  they  may  liave  i.i  the  i-rcmises,  and 
receive?  tho  above  reward  for  the  restoration  to 

"  Francois  Juhiut, 
*'  No.  87,  Chamber  Street,  Now  Vork.** 
^Julj/  M//i,  1812." 


imrstTBBncs  o9  ▲  ooNvnnt. 


101 


Anxious  to  give  this  pretended  escape  of  the  sick 
nun  as  much  publicity  as  possible,  without  appear- 
ing to  do  so,  tne  General,  auring  the  day,  sent  some 
of  his  ooufident  emissaries  into  di£Ferent  parts  of  the 
city,  to  talk  about  the  aff .lir  in  yarious  crowded  re- 
sorts, as  an  item  of  news,  until,  by  noon,  it  was 
uoised  abroad  everywhere,  and  produced  quite  an 
excited  state  of  feeling.  Yorious  parties  of  zealous 
Oatholics  visited  the  convent,  and  conversed  with 
the  Mother  Superior,  during:  the  week  following ; 
and  others  scoured  the  surrounding  country,  in 
search  of  the  fugitive,  but  without  success.  The 
excitement  at  length  died  away,  and  the  affair  was 
well  nigh  forgotten.     ^ 

Meanwhile,  the  Father  General  had,  by  means  of 
his  own  indefatigable  industry,  for  he  dired  not  en- 
trust the  matter  to  the  agency  of  any  third  person, 
succeeded  in  finding  a  nun  of  about  the  same  age, 
height,  colour  of  hair,  complexion,  and  general  con- 
tour of  person  and  features,  with  the  deceased  nun ; 
and,  in  bringing  her,  unseen  and  closely  veiled,  tra- 
velling in  a  dose  carrriage,  and  principally  by  night 
from  the  convent  in  Canada,  where  ho  had  discov^ 
ered  her,  to  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Wilmot.  in  New 
York  city,  where  he  stealthily  left  her,  about  ona 
month  after  the  pretended  disappearance  of  the  mis- 
sing nun. 

This  Mr.  Wilmot  Was  a  member  of  the  Episcopal 
Church,  nominally,  but  really  a  lay  Jesuit  in  <ns- 
guise— and  with  him  the  Father  General  had  ar- 
ranged the  whole  matter,  with  the  connivance  of 
the  wife  of  this  supposec!  E[)iscopalian  ;  a  handsome 
douceur  being  the  reward  of  their  iniquity.  It  may 
be  proper,  also,  to  say  that  Mr.  Wilmot  was  a  small 
grocer,  at  the  comer  of  two  streets,  soraowhat  re- 
mote from  the  centre  of  the  city.  It  was  noarlv  mid- 
night when  the  nun  entered  the  house,  disguised  in 
an  ample  travelling  dress,  whidh  completely  oon- 
oealed  her  religious  habit. 


102 


MYSTEBIfiS  09  A  OOUVKKT. 


"liiS 


.;*;! 


Ui 


)(',    '■ 


?-    Jf^ 


1  /       '' 


n^ 


Next  morning,  Mr.  Wilmot  took  care  to  mention^ 
in  oonfidenoe,  to  some  of  bis  oustomers,  that  during 
the  previous  ni|rht,  and  just  as  his  family  was  retir- 
ine  to  rest,  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  a  beauti- 
ful nnn,  who  bore  traces  of  recent  illness^  had  knock- 
ed at  his  front  door,  and,  appearing  ^'rently  terrified 
when  he  went  to  see  who  it  was,  rushed  into  the 
passage,  and,  falling  upon  her  knees,  implored  him 
to  take  pity  upon  her,  as  a  poor  nun  who  had  fled 
from  most  dreadful  persecutions  in  a  convent,  aome 
distance  off,  and  to  afford  her  protection,  until  she 
could  write  to  her  father  to  come  and  take  her  home. 
He  then  gnve  quite  an  interesting  account  of  the 
reception  which  he  and  his  wife  had  given  to  the 

Soor  creature,  and  told  his  friends  that  he  had  no 
oubt,  from  her  story,  that  she  was  the  nun  con- 
cerning whom  a  reword  of  fifty  dollars  had  been 
oTered,  about  a  month  ago,  in  the  city  newspapers ; 
but  that  he  should  scorn  to  betray  the  innocent  suf- 
ferer into  the  hands  of  those  wretched  priests,  and 
would  protect  her,  as  long  as  she  choose  to  stay  in 
his  house. 

As  might  naturally  be  supposed,  and  as  was  in- 
tended by  the  crafty  grocer,  who  had  liis  cue  from 
the  Father  General,  thesA  friends  of  his,  to  whom 
this  secret  was  confided,  thought  it  too  good  to  keep, 
and  so  relieved  their  burdened  minds  by  shariiif? 
their  confidence  with  some  of  their  neififhbours. 
These,  in  their  turn,  thinking  that  a  division  of  res- 
ponsibility was  "  within  the  line  of  safo  i)recedent8," 
imparted  the  secret  to  their  friends,  until,  by  ten 
o'clock  that  morning,  a  large  crowd  had  gathered 
about  the  grocer's  door,  clamorous  to  see  the  escaped 
nun.  Closing  his  shop  door,  however,  and  sending 
off  post  haste  for  a  oody  of  police  to  protect  his 
dwelling,  and  for  some  two  or  three  clergymen  of 
different  denominations,  as  well  as  a  lawyer  of  some 
eminence  with  whom  he  wished  to  consult  as  to  what 
•curse  be  should  pursue,  he,  in  the  meantime,  sp- 


*-? 


tfYSTE^tlES  0^  A  COKVENf • 


lOS 


pdared  at  an  upper  window,  and  told  the  assembled 
crowd,  whioh  was  every  moment  iuoreaainff,  that  it 
was  tme  that  he  had  given  protection  to  a  friendless 
nun,  who  had  claimed  it  at  his  hands,  and  that  he 
was  determined  to  ^uard  her  with  his  life,  until  she 
should  ^o  forth  from  his  house,  of  her  own  accord, 
or  he  had  had  time  to  take  counsel  with  those  for 
whom  he  had  sent,  and  wLo  wore  more  experienced 
in  such  matters  than  himself. 

This  declaration  was  heard  with  cheers  by  thePro- 
testants,  and  hisses  and  fn^oans  by  the  Catholics,  in- 
stigated, but  held  in  check,  by  the  emissaries  of  the 
Father  Qeueral,  who,  from  a  neighbouring  house, 
in  which  he  had  concealed  himself-  the  house  of 
a  member  of  that  church^directed  the  movements 
of  bis  party. 

**But  the  nun  is  crazy,"  shouted  some  of  the 
Catholics,  "  and  does  not  know  what  she  is  doin^." 

"  She  is  not  crazv,"— replied  the  procer ; — "  she 
is  no  more  crazy  than  you  are.  She  is  an  exceed- 
ingl^y  sensible  woman,  and  knows  very  well  what 
she  is  about." 

"I  demand  that  you  pive  her  up  to  me,**  said  a 
very  genteelly  dressed  man,  who  now  made  his  ap- 
pearance in  front  of  the  mob.  "  I  make  this  demand 
m  the  name  of  the  Spiritual  Father  who  has  the 
charge  of  her." 

"I  shall  do  no  such  thinpr,"   said  the  procer. 

*'  You  must,  or  we  will  taki^  her  by  force,**  replied 
the  spokesman,  who  !ooked  around  him,  to  see  how 
many  he  could  depend  upon,  in  the  crowd,  to  aid 
him  in  the  assault. 

•*  I  command  yon  to  keep  the  peace,**  said  a  magis- 
trate, followed  by  a  bevy  of  police,  who  advanced, 
and  laid  hishand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  bellif^erent. 

**  I  shall  permit  no  violence  here,  my  friends," — he 
added— "the  proper  authorities  must  decide  this 
matter,  and  I  know  you  are  too  good  oitizens  to 
wrest  it  out  of  their  hands,*' 


I*'' 


1 


u 


:-«-u 


104 


nySTKKlES  OIF  ▲  00MTBlf9» 


''  That  is  the  right  way.  That  is  right !"  cried  ont 
a  score  of  Toioes— **  let  the  law  decide  it.** 

Meanwhile,  the  persons  sent  for  had  Arrived ;  aod 
it  was  determined  that  the  nun  should  present  her- 
self, under  a  stronfi;  escort  of  police,  hefore  the  city 
authorities,  and  claim  their  protection,  as  beinf^ 
stronj^er  and  more  efficient  than  that  of  any  priyate 
individual. 

In  a  few  minutes,  a  cnrriage  was  brought  to  the 
grocer's  door,  in  which  the  nun,  together  with  Dr. 
Chine,  an  Episcopal  minister,  the  Bev.  Mr.  Scott,  a 
Presbyterian  clergyman,  and  the  Kev.  Mr.  Fletcher, 
of  the  Mt^.thodist  church,  were  seated  ;  while  the 
magistratf?  «ind  his  civil  force  surrounded  the  carri- 
age, and  fi Actually  guarded  them  from  the  show  of 
redstart?'  and  attack,  which  was  made  by  the  Oa- 
th :>P'^  po  t;o  4  of  the  crowd,  but  which  was  too  well 
tr  line  t,  \.  owever  to  strike  without  a  signal  from 
tbmr  kn^ '^rs,  who  were  thickly  interspersed  among 
th  tn,  aiu)  'i'''!  them  in  perfect  control,  althou^^h  there 
were  uot;  a  few  hot-headed  Irishmen  in  the  midst. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  pretended  nun  undergoes  a  judical  examination— Je- 
suitical manoeuvring— An  apt  pupil— The  inquiry  ter- 
minates in  favour  of  the  supposed  nun. 

Abbtved  at  the  mayor's  office,  the  nun,  who  "fave 
her  name  as  Eniilie  de  Vere,  otherwise  called  by  the 
appellation,  as  a  religieuse,  of  Sister  Tn^^resa,  stated 
that,  in  consequence  of  persecution  and  iie;zlectin 
the  Convent  of  Annunciation,  she  had  find  from  thnt 
establishment,  about  a  m  >ath  ago;  hod  reichedthe 
city  on  the  last  evening,  and  now  claimed  the  pro- 
tection of  the  city  authoriliea,  until  ylie  could  write 
to  her  father,  who  resided  in  the  south,  and  from 
whom  she  had  not  heard  for  many  years,  to  come 
and  take  h^^r  hoisrie ;  declaring,  in  the  most  solemn 
tnauneri  with  hazids  uplifted  to  heaven,  and  tears  is 


I. 

bt  I*'  cried  ont 
lit.'* 

i  arrived ;  and 
id  present  her- 
►eforethe  city 
don,  as  hevm^ 
of  any  private 

broQ^bt  to  the 
;etber  with  Dr. 
ev.  Mr.  Scott,  a 
7,  Mr.  Fletcher, 
tted  ;  while  the 
inded  the  earn- 
rom  the  show  of 
nade  by  the  Ca- 
ioh  was  too  well 
t  a  si{?nalfrom 
jrspersed  amouR 
pi,  altboush  there 

n  in  the  midst. 


il  eicamination-Je- 
fl— The  inquiry  ter- 

nun,  who  pave 
^\9G  called  by  the 
^rTK^resa,  stated 
In  and  ne^ilectin 
Ud  fled  from  tbnt 
I  hod  reached  the 

claimed  the  pro- 
HI  ybe  could  write 
Boutb,  and  from 

3V  years,  to  come 
,  the  most  solemn 
laven,  and  tears  m 


HTSTZBXSS  OF  ▲  OON  VENT. 


105 


her  eyes,  wlucb  drew  teartt  iu  turu  irom  alinost  every 
eye  in  the  house,  his  honour  the  mayor  not  excepted 
—that  she  then  and  for  ever  abjured  Roman  Catho- 
licism, and  all  allegiauce  to  pope  or  priest— beseech- 
ing those  before  whom  she  then  stood,  not  to  suffer 
her  to  fall  into  the  bauds  of  her  euemies  a«j^ain,  as, 
in  that  event,  her  life  would  most  iuevitably  be  the 
forfeit.  She  acted  her  part  to  perfection,  and  com- 
pletely imposed  upon  all  present. 

Francois  Jubert,  the  Father  General,  then  stepped 
forward,  and  declared  that  he  had  tlie  spiritual 
charge  of  t)ie  nuns  belou^ing  to  the  Conveut  uf  the 
Auunciation— that  tlie  nun   was  correct  iu  stating 
that  she  had  fled  from  the  ebtablishmeut,  about  a 
mouth  since,  and  that  she  was  the  same  for  whose 
recovery  he  had  otiered  a  reward  of  fifty  dollars,  on 
the  14th  of  July  last,  but  that  it  was  not  true  that 
shehadbeei)  persecuted  or  no>^lected— on  the  con- 
trary, he  affirmed  tluit  she  liad  beeu  most  kindly 
cared  for  by  the  Mother  Superior,  and  by  all  the 
members  of  the  family  ;   addin<^,  that  the  nun  had 
become  crazy  by  means  of  a  severe  s-tellof  sickness, 
the  traces  of  which  her  pale  countenance  still  bore, 
and  that  this  state  of  mental  aberratlou  had  led  her 
to  take  the  step  which  slie  had.       He  concluded  by 
expressiuj^  the  hope  that  hio  honour,  the  mayor, 
would  not  sutfer  the  Catholic  CiiurcU  to  be  scanda- 
lized by  the  wild  raviuf^sof  au  insane  nun  ;  but  that 
he  would  order  her  surrender  to  hira,  that  he  might 
take  her  back  to  her  kind  friends,  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior atid  the  sisters  of  charity,  whose  hearts  were 
now  tilled  with  disquietude  at  her  absence,  and  with 
apprehensions  for  her  safety.    Wliile  thus  address- 
mg  himself  to  the  mayor,  he  cast  looks  of  paternal 
regard  and  pity  upon  the  nun,  and  even  shed  a  tear, 
*"rru     ®?"^">i»eration  of  her  unfortunate  condition. 
The  ministers  present,  however,  iu  their  turn,  ex- 
pressed their  confidence  in  the  sanity  of  the  nun, 
and  declared  that  they  could  not  belioTe,  without 
224  s 


Pi 


106 


ivnrsTcniBtf  op  a  ootsttem. 


if! 


f  urther  evidoooe  than  they  had,  that  the  declaration 
of  inaauity,  made  bv  the  priest,  waa  anything  more 
than  a  ruse  to  get  the  poor  girl  baok  into  his  posMs- 
aion. 

The  mayor  then  sent  for  two  of  the  ablest  phygl. 
dans  in  the  city,  and  requested  them  to  exainiue  the 
nun  fully,  aud  to  satisfy  themselves  as  to  the  coudi- 
Uon  of  her  miud.  This  request  they  comphed  with ; 
and,  haying  conversed  with  her  there  in  the  open 
court,  for  more  than  an  hour,  assisted  at  times  by 
questions  tiom  the  clergymen— they  declared,  upou 
oath,  thut,  so  far  from  her  beiug  crazy,  she  was  in 
the  full  possebsion  of  vigorous  tiacultius  of  miud,  of 
extraordiuory  power,  and  was,  upou  the  whole,  cue 
of  the  most  lutelleotual  women  they  ever  couversed 
with  in  their  liveit. 

The  Father  General  here  interfered,  and,  8tate«l 
that  hers  was  a  case  monomania,  and  that,  while  she 
could  converse  intelligently  eiiougb  upou  every  other 
•ubject — if  they  would  introduce  a  tcpio  which  he 
would  name  to  tbem  privately,  they  would  tiud  that, 
in  a  few  moments,  she  would  become  perfectly  wiU 
upon  it. 

Having  whispered  this  to|iic  iu  their  ears,  in  re- 
ference to  which  ne  had  declared  her  to  be  a  mono- 
maniac, the  physicians  proceeded  to  converse  with 
her  upon  it,  for  some  time ;  and,  although  it  was  one 
of  her  exceeding  delicacy,  aud  she  was  talking  with 
thc:se  who  were  entire  strangers  to  her,  yet  such  was 
the  modesty  of  her  replies,  and  so  rational  were  they, 
that  her  iuterrugatorti  indi|;nantly  alUrmed  thatit 
was  an  outrageous  trilling  with  the  time  of  ttie  court, 
aud  more  especially,  with  the  feelings  of  the  iute- 
restinglady ;  for  she  was  perfectly  free  from  all  traces 
of  insanity  as  any  individual  of  them  all  there  present. 

His  houour  the  mayor  then  asked  the  uun  if  she 
liad  any  place  in  the  oitv  in  view,  where  she  wonld 
wish  to  stay,  antU  her  father  could  be  written  to; 
a«id  receiving,  for  answer,  (hat  the  would  prefw  n* 


Bit. 

the  declaration 
anything  more 
into  his  posses- 
lie  alilest  phygi« 
I  to  examiue  the 
as  to  the  coudi- 
oom plied  with ; 
are  in  the  open 
ted  at  times  hy 
'  deolared,  upou 
iizy,  she  was  in 
Itios  of  Diiud,  of 
1  the  whole,  one 
J  ever  conversed 

)red,  and,  stated 
id  that,  while  she 
upon  every  other 
I  a  tcpic  which  ha 
'  would  tiudtbut, 
ae  perfectly  wild 

their  ears,  in  re- 
ler  to  be  a  mono- 
to  conver.se  with 
though  it  was  one 
was  talkiuf?  witli 
her,  yet  such  wa8 
itional  were  they, 
ly  ttlUrmed  that  it 
j'time  of  the  court, 

elinjjs  of  the  iute- 
"ree  from  all  traces 
nalltherepresent. 

ed  the  nun  if  wj 

B.  where  the  wouia 

lid  be  written  to; 

would  pw<«  ^ 


mrSTKRIRH   OF  A  0OM7EKT. 


107 


maininff  in  the  family  whoto  protection  she  had  first 
claimedi  if  it  was  thought  safe  for  her  to  be  there ; 
aud  Mr.  Wilmot  stating  that  he  would  give  bond 
and  security,  in  any  sum  recjuired  by  the  mayor,  for 
the  safe  keeping  and  rendition  of  tlie  nun  wheneTer 
called  upon  to  do  so,  it  was  ordered  that  she  be  re* 
turned  to  his  house,  and  there  suffered  to  remain  un- 
molested* 

The  Father  General  bit  his  lip,  as  if  in  angry  dis- 
appointment, and  left  the  room ;  while  Mr.  Wilmot 
t^)uk  charge  of  the  nun,  and,  under  the  escort  of  a 
police  officer,  re-entering  the  carriage  whic'i  had 
f'oriie  them  to  the  mayor's  office,  was  driven  to  his 
residence. 

Here  the  nun  soon  exchanged  her  religious  habit 
for  a  secular  dress ;  and,  as  she  dwelt  a  quiet  inmate 
in  his  family,  never  going  out  into  the  street,  except 
at  ui|{ht,  and  to  visit  the  dwelling  of  the  Father 
General,  no  further  excitement  occurred  in  the  pub- 
lic mind.  The  Oatholics,  who,  under  other  circum« 
stances,  would  have  raised  an  ungovernable  storm 
about  the  poor  nun's  ears,  being  controlled  aud  kept 
quiet  by  their  superiors. 


CHAPTER  XXI, 

The  Father  Oenoral's  residence—The  library —Splendid  fur- 
niture and  fittings  of  the  establishiuent— The  Father 
Geuerai'8  letter  to  the  Mother  Superior— Plot  upon  plot. 

The  residence  of  the  Father  General,  in  New  York, 
was  a  handsome  three-story  brick  building,  of  the 
first  class  of  private  houses,  having  a  b:\semeiit  with 
dining  room  and  kitchen  attached  ;  a  suite  of  draw- 
ing rooms,  richlv  furnished,  on  the  first  floor  proi>er ; 
two  large  chambers  on  the  second,  and  as  many  in 
the  third,  with  a  neat  little  room,  over  the  hall,  on 
both;  and  a  fine  attio,  well  finished,  for  the  servants 
of  the  establishment.  In  the  rear  was  a  small  yurd, 
which  his  taste  had  eaoted  to  be  handsomelj  tr< 


.  ::ij' 


108 


MYSTEBtES  OF  A  OONVSin*. 


u 


rauged  in  little  flower-beds,  in  whicli  were  son)? 
moit  rare  and  beautiful  plants,  carefully  attondcd  to 
by  the  gardener  from  the  city  oonvent,  who  oame  at 
regular  interyals  to  spend  a  day  or  two  in  working 
the  beds,  and  seeing  that  everything  was  in  nice  or- 
der. Between  this  residence  and  the  adjoining 
bouse,  was  an  alley  of  some  three  feet  and  a  half  in 
width,  with  a  front  gate  opening  upon  the  street; 
the  alley  running  back  into  the  garden.  The  front 
chamber  of  this  dwelling,  in  the  second  btory,  was 
occupied  by  the  Father  General ;  the  rear  one  ap- 
propriated to  his  guests,  and  the  small  room  over 
the  door,  as  a  cabinet  where  he  kont  his  moat  valu- 
able papers  in  an  ron  safe,  did  all  of  his  writing, 
and  transacted  his  private  business.  The  only  open- 
ing to  this  room  was  through  his  chamber;  as  he 
had  the  door  formerly  leading  from  it  into  the  pas- 
sage^  built  up,  so  as  to  render  himself  the  more  se- 
cure from  eaves-dropping. 

The  front  room  in  the  third  story  was  fitted  up 
as  a  library ;  having  shelves  arranged  on  all  sides, 
upon  which  was  found  a  magnificent  collection  cf 
books,  in  all  languages,  and  upon  almost  all  sub- 
jects ;  many  of  them  very  rare  and  of  great  value.  A 
map-rack  stood  on  one  side  of  the  room,  provided 
with  maps  and  atlases,  some  of  which  were  especi- 
alljr  prepared  with  a  view  to  exhibit,  at  a  glance,  the 
points  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  where  the  Jesuits 
Dad  established  themselves.  A  very  large  terres- 
trial globe,  also,  stood  near  these  maps.  An  oval 
table,  covered  with  green  cloth,  and  of  lari^e  dimen- 
nous,  occupied  th^  centre  of  this  room,  upon  which 
were  bundles  of  letters  and  papers  tied  up  with  red 
tape,  and  neatly  labelled  by  the  secretary  of  the  Fa- 
ther General,  a  young  Italian  by  the  name  of  PJetro 
Lodetti,  who  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  librarj, 
daring  the  day,  and  occupied  the  adjoining  bed- 
room, at  night.  It  may  be  as  well  to  state,  here, 
ttiat  this  secretary  had  been  sent  out  from  Italyi  bjf 


2CT8TBBZX8  09  ▲  OOHTBXTt 


109 


were  some 
f  attended  to 
who  oame  at 
o  in  working 
aB  in  nice  or* 
he  adjoining 
and  a  half  in 
iu  t)  16  street; 
11.    The  front 
nd  btory,  was 
rear  one  ap- 
lU  room  over 
his  moat  valu- 
f  hia  writing, 
?he  only  open- 
amber  ;   as  he 
;  into  the  pas- 
£  the  more  se- 


[  was  fitted  up 
I  on  all  sides, 
t  collection  of 
Imoat  all  sub- 
frreat  value.  A 
•oom,  providetl 
}hwere  especi- 
at  a  glance,  the 
Bre  the  Jesuits 
ry  large  tenes- 
laps.     An  oval 
of  lar?e  dimen- 
)m,  upon  which 
led  up  with  red 

stary  of  the  Fa- 
"^name  of  Betro 
in  the  library, 
adjoining  bed- 
1  to  Btete,  bere, 
t  from  Italy,  bj 


the  bead  of  the  order  there,  of  hie  own  accord,  to  the 
Father  (leneral  in  the  United  States,  with  the  real, 
though  not  ayowed.  intention  of  aotiDg  as  a  spv 
upon  tl.e  actions  of  the  latter;  such  bciiip^  the  suspi- 
cious jealousy  of  these  Jesuits,  in  reference  to  each 
other. 

It  was  altogethf^r  a  rare  establishment  iu  its  en- 
tire fitting  up  ;  n  .(  ,  save  that  it  had  throughout  that 
Diasouline  tone  winch  seems  to  be  inseparably^  con* 
nected  with  all  bachelor  residences,  from  which  the 
mellowing  hand  of  w  man  and  her  delicate  taste 
have  been  excluded,  it  u  L'ht  have  been  a  model  for 
the  whole  city,  in  point  of  neatness  and  elegance. 
In  the  drawing  rooms  were  hun^  some  of  the  best 
8;  c'cimens  of  the  old  masters ;  in  the  cham^  rs  were 
f w  md  all  possible  luxurious  contrivances  lor  ease 
and  comfort ;  in  the  cuisine,  evtry  arrangement  ne- 
cessiry  for  the  perfection  of  good  lifiii'S  and  in  the 
cellar,  carefully  placed  under  lock  and  key,  a  choice 
store  of  the  richest  old  wines,  duly  l/i  belled  with  the 
dates  of  the  respective  vintages,  upoM  his  profound 
acquaintance  with  which,  the  Father  General  great- 
ly prided  himself,  it  is  true  that  all  this  contrasted 
strangely  enough  with  the  Jesuit's  vow  of  poverty; 
hut,  if  you  had  asked  him  to  explain  the  glaring  iu- 
consistency,  he  would,  doubtless,  have  replied  to  you, 
with  great  readiness,  that,  as  the  head  of  the  order 
in  the  United  States,  he  had  dispensation  to  live 
thus :  the  importance  and  di;;nity  of  the  ofHce  which 
he  tiiied,  requiring  that  he  should  live  iu  correspond* 
ing  state. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  upon  which  the  nun  re- 
presenting Emilie  de  Vere  or  the  Sister  Theresa,  had 
been  t  ken  before  the  city  authorities,  the  Father 
General  was  seated  at  the  round  table  covered  with 
green  cloth,  which  stood  in  his  cabinet,  busily  en- 
gaged in  writing  a  letter,  in  cypher,  to  the  Mother 
Superior;  a  quiet  smile,  meanwhile,  playing  upon 
Disfeatures, 


.f 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


// 


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23  WIST  MAIN  STMIT 

WIBSTIR,N.Y.  MSM 

(716)t72-4S03 


no 


msnpszBS  ov  ▲  ooirTSMVt 


After  giving  her  a  detailed  aooount  of  the  eTents 
of  the  day,  he  thne  proceeded : 

^'Thns.  you  will  perceive,  our  plot  works  admir- 
ably. The  Canada  nnn,  about  whom  I  have  already 
written  to  you,  has  nlayed  her  part  to  prelection; 
and  I  have  saoceedea,  by  her  help,  and  by  the  man- 
ner in  which  I  have  managed  this  whole  affair,  in 
making  the  mayor  and  the  good  citizens  of  New 
York  believe  the  nun  to  be  the  veritable  one  whom 
I  advertised,  last  July,  and  that  we  Catholics  are 
the  most  barbarous  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
But,  while  they  are  under  this  impression,  we  are 
steadily  advancing  towards  the  desired  object^  and 
can  afford  to  be  covered  with  the  dust  which  is 
thrown  up  by  our  carriage  wheels,  whose  revolu« 
tions  bear  us  to  the  acquisition  of  a  vast  inheritance. 
It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us,  that  every  pos- 
sible suspicion  of  connivance  in  this  matter  should 
be  avoided ;  and  the  worse,  therefore,  the  attitude  in 
which  we  appear  to  stand  to  the  ^  pretended  Sister 
Theresa,  the  more  improbable  it  is  that  collusion 
should  be  suspected  or  detected. 

^  I  have  written  to  Father  Marin,  to  make  every 

S«8ible  effort  to  introduce  into  the  family  of  Mr. 
oreton,  a  servant  under  the  control  of  our  order, 
that  we  may  have  a  spy  upon  Julia,  and  be  able  to 
countervail  any  mischief  that  she  or  her  friends  may 
4ittempt  to  do. 

**  On  to-morrow,  the  nun  will  write  a  letter  as  from 
Emilie  de  Yere  to  her  father,  requesting  him  to  come 
and  take  her  home,  which  I  shall  take  care  to  send 
to  the  executor  of  the  estate,  in  such  a  way  as  will 
avoid  all  suspicion,  and  put  the  affair  a  step  further 
forward  in  the  process  of  completion.  Meanwhile, 
•he  Is  safely  housed  with  Mr.  Wilmot,  whom  all  the 
world  believes  to  be  a  good  Episcopalian,  while  he 
is  one  of  us,  and  as  true  as  steeL    Ha !  ha! 

**  I  will  keep  yon  advised  of  further  proceeding's. 

To  this  letter  he  added  the  following  postscript, 
in  the  same  cypher : 


*j»:^ 


P. 

of  theeTentfi 

works  admir- 
I  have  already 
bo  profection; 
d  by  the  man- 
liole  affair,  in 
bizens  of  New 
ible  one  whom 
3  Catholics  are 
B  of  the  earth, 
jssion,  we  are 
:ed  object^  and 
dust  which  is 
whose  revolu* 
ist  inheritance, 
that  every  pos- 
I  matter  should 
the  attitude  in 
retended  Sister 
that  collusion 

to  make  every 
family  of  Mr. 
I  of  our  order, 
and  be  able  to 
er  friends  may 

-•letter  as  from 
fcg  him  to  come 
[e  care  to  send 
a  way  as  will 
a  step  further 
..    Meanwhile, 
I,  whom  all  the 
tlian,  while  he 

!hal     .      „ 
I  proceeding, 
log  postscripti 


WnSSBSMB  09  ▲  00  tfVXKVt 


111 


^  U  jonlukTe^any  dothing  of  Emilie  de  V^  man 
by  her  proTious  to  her  asBumiog  the  religiout  habi^ 
or  any  articles  which  her  friends,  if  there  be  any, 
would  be  likely  to  recognise  as  hers— box  them  up 
carefully,  and  send  them  to  my  address." 

Despatching  this  letter  to  the  post  office,  by  a  8er« 
vant  who  answered  the  signal  bell  wire  which  com- 
municated^with  the  kitchen,  the  Father  General  ap- 
plied himself  to  the  examination  of  a  large  mass  of 
documents  which  he  took  from  the  iron  safe,  and  to 
the  perusal  and  answering  of  several  letters  which 
lay  upon  the  table  before  him  some  in  cypher,  and 
some  in  a  plain  hand  ;  and,  as  the  great  town  clock, 
on  the  City  Hall,  told  the  hour  of  two  in  the  morn- 
ing, jaded  and  worn  out  with  fatigue,  he  entered  his 
bed -room,  and,  mumbling  a  sleepy  and  hasty  prayer, 
threw  himself  upon  his  luxurious  couch  of  down,  aha 
slept  soundly  until  the  rap  of  the  servant  at  the  door, 
which  was  carefully  and  doubly  locked,  aroused  him 
to  a  late  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  XXn. 

The  Father  General's  anxiety— His  interview  and  transao* 
tion  with  the  false  Emilie  de  Vere— The  fobricated  let- 
ter—The Ttalian  secretary — ^Plot  and  counter-plot— 
Fietro  and  Alice— The  intimacy  commenced. 

The  next  evening,  about  nine  o'clock,  the  Father 
General  might  have  been  seen  seated  at  his  cabinet^ 
at  the  little  green  table,  on  which  were  i)laced  writ- 
ing materials,  anxiously  awaiting  the  arrival  of  some 
one  ;  for  he  frequently  arose,  and,  going  to  the  win- 
dow, looked  out  into  the  darkness,  andas  often  re- 
turned to  his  chair,  with  an  evidently  increasing  un- 
easiness of  manner. 

At  length,  he  was  about  to  seize  his  hat,  and  leave 
the  room,  when  he  heard  the  sound  of  approaching 
footsteps ;  ^e  gate  opening  into  the  alley  creaked 
upon  its  hinges,  and  he  hastened  down  stairs  to  meet 
the  expected  visitor,  who  turned  out  to  be  the  pre- 


.V^^^!i| 


'.U-' 


112 


ICTSSXBZB8  OV  A  OOWBIIT. 


:  ^ 


tended  Sister  Theresa,  dressed  not  in  the  (^arb  of  a 
reUffieiUBf  but  that  of  a  woman  in  the  middle  walk 
of  kfe,  plain  bnt  neat.  She  was  aocompanied  by  the 
secretary,  in  a  secular  dress,  who,  with  his  quiet, 
down  look,  glided  silently  b^  her  side,  and,  crossing 
his  arms  upon  his  breast,  with  a  low  inclination  of 
the  head,  as  he  met  the  Father  Jesuit,  passed  on  to 
bis  own  apartment ;  leaving  the  nun  whom  he  had 
been  sent  for,  standing  in  the  hall  with  the  latter. 

'*  I  will  call  for  you  in  two  hours,"  said  the  Gen- 
eral to  the  secretary,  as  the  former  turned  to  ascend 
the  stairway  along  with  the  nun. 

**  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  repljr  of  the  secretary,  again 
crossing  his  arms,  and  bowing  his  head. 

When  the  Qeneral  had  introduced  the  nun  into 
his  cabinet,  carefully  locking  the  door  of  the  bed- 
room, he  looked  sternly  at  her,  while  he  said,  in  an 
impressive  tone : 

^  You  are  an  hour  behind  your  time.  Why  is  this  ?* 

*'  My  lord,"  replied  the  nun,  somewhat  alarmed 
by  his  earnest  manner,  "  I  was  detained  by  some 
company  that  came  to  Mr.  Wilmot's,  after  tea,  and 
whom  I  could  not  leave  without  appearing  to  be  ab- 
rupt, and  excite  suspicion." 

**  It  is  well.  You  have  acted  your  pari  nobly  so 
far ;  continue  to  be  true  and  faithful,  and  you  will 
deserve  well  of  the  order.  Betray  my  trust,  and-^ 
yon  know  what  will  be  the  consequence,"  said  the 
Father  General,  while  a  slight  tremor  passed  over 
the  poor  girl's  frame. 

'*Now,*'  continued  the  Jesuit,  '*  sit  down  at  that 
table,  and  write  as  I  shall  dictate  to  you." 

"  New  York  City,  August  18, 1812. 
<*To  Mr.  Charles  de  Yere, 

B&tonBouge,  Louisiana. 

**  My  dear,  dear  father,  can  you.  will  you,  forgive 
me,  for  the  base  part  I  have  acted,  in  bringing  so 
mndi  sorrow  upon  you  and  upon  my  dear  mother, 
of  whose  death,  some  years  ago,  I  have  heard  P   Oh, 


p. 

the  garb  of  a 
B  middle  walk 
ipanied  by  the 
iih  bis  quiet, 
I,  and,  croBsinx 
inclination  of 
t,  passed  on  to 
I  whom  he  had 
;h  the  latter, 
said  the  Gen- 
med  to  ascend 

ecretary,  again 

Old. 

I  the  nun  into 

ar  of  the  hed- 

e  he  said)  in  an 

,  Why  is  this  r 
iwhat  alarmed 
lined  by  some 
I,  after  tea,  and 
laring  to  be  ab- 

Ir  par\#  nobly  so 
],  and  you  will 
ly  trust,  and— 
ice/*  said  the 
)r  passed  over 

down  at  that 
rou." 
}t  18, 1812. 

ina. 

you,  forgive 

.  bringing  so 

dear  mother, 

I  heard?   Oh, 


aCfSTXBZES  OV  i.  OONYSNT. 


118 


if  she  were  bat  alive,  bow  would  it  rejoice  my  heart 
to  fall  upon  my  knees  before  her,  and  implore  her 
forgiyeness,  too!  but  she  is  gone  ;  and  you  are  my 
only  remaining  parent.  Will  you  forgive  me,  dear 
f  ai£er,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have  repented  in  dust 
and  ashes— that  I  have  fled  from  the  hated  oonvetit, 
and  renounced  Boman  Catholicism  for  ever?  0, 
come  to  me,  beloved  father !  and  tell  me  that  you  do 
forgive  me ;  and  take  me  away  from  this  re^on, 
where  I  fear,  every  day,  that  the  dreadful  priests 
will  find  me  out,  and  use  violence  to  my  life.  Ton 
will  find  me  at  the  house  of  a  Mr.  William  Wilmot, 
a  grocer,  at  the  corner  of  Hudson  and  King-street. 
Mr.  WUmot  is  a  Protestant,  who  has  kindly  taken 
me  into  his  family,  and  so  far  protected  me  against 
the  efforts  of  the  vile  Jesuits.  But  hasten  to  me,  dear 
father— every  day  will  seem  an  age  until  I  see  you. 

"  Your  repentant  child, 

"  Emiub  db  Veeb." 
« There,  that's  a  good  girl,"  said  the  General,  pat- 
ting the  nun  on  the  head.    ''Let  me  see  what  you 
have  written.** 

**  Ah !  that  is  just  right,"  he  added,  after  having 
carefully  perused  the  letter—"  just  what  we  want. 
Ma  foi,  but  you  write  a  pretty  hand,  just  like  those 
pretty  finsers  with  which  you  wrote  it,"  continued 
he,  as  he  looked  archly  at  the  pretty  woman,  while 
a  blush  mantled  her  cheeks." 

*'  Gome  now,  my  dear,  direct  this  on  the  back," 
said  the  Jesuit,  as  he  handed  her  the  letter,  which 
he  had  meanwhile  folded  and  enclosed  in  an  enve- 
lope—'* and  write  the  address  in  a  little  larger  hand 
than  you  have  used  within,  in  order  that  it  may  be 
sure  not  to  miscarry.  Yes,  that  wiU  do ;  thank  yon, 
my  pet." 

Leaving  the  pretty  nun  with  the  Father  Jesuit, 
while  he  instructs  her  fully  in  that  part  which  she  is 
to  act  in  the  plot,  let  us  go  up  stairs,  and  look  tn 
upon  the  secretary.   See,  there  he  sits,  in  that  room 


m 


114 


KnaaoEh  ov  ▲  oosmun. 


filM  with  books,  rorrouDded  by  %  pile  of  papers, 
which  he  Beems  to  haye  been  engaged  in  arraugiug 
and  filing.  But  he  no  longer  has  that  quiet,  down 
look ;  his  feet  are  placed  upon  the  edge  of  ^e  table: 
as  he  leans  back  in  his  chair,  he  twirls  his  pen  be- 
tween his  fingers,  and  his  piercing  black  eye  is  danc- 
ing ill  its  socket,  as^  with  a  look  full  of  intelligeuce, 
be  secDis  to  be  solving  some  mental  questioQ  which 
deeply  interests  him.  Presently,  as  if  unable  to  ar- 
rive at  any  satisfactory  conclusion,  he  threw  the  pen 
upon  the  table,  with  a  gesture  of  impatience,  ex- 
claiming— 

'*  I  will  find  it  out,  in  spite  of  him.  It  is  no  mere 
love  intrigue,  I  am  sure.  If  so,  why  should  this  nun 
Lave  come  all  the  way  from  Canada,  as  she  told  me, 
to«night,  she  had  ;  and  why  all  this  pretence  about 
her  escape  from  the  Oouveut  of  the  Annunciation, 
and  about  her  being  a  sister  somebody  instead  of 
herself?  why  this  personation  of  another  nun,  and 
all  this  uproar  at  the  mayor's  office  P  Why  is  she 
staying  at  Wilmot's  P  There  is  some  grand  plot  ou 
hand ;  and  I  will  have  a  hand  in  it— I  vow  to  the 
Holy  Virgin,  I  will."       " 

**  But  how  shall  I  go  about  it  ?  Ah !  I  see.  I  will 
make  love  to  this  nun— and  then,  Mr.  Father  Gen- 
eral—my Lord,  the  representative  of  the  Great  Head 
of  the  Jesuits  in  these  United  States — then  see  if  I 
do  not  get  from  her  all  she  knows  about  this  matter : 
and  she  must  necessarily  know  a  good  deal.  Aha! 
Hetro,  you  have  got  him  now." 

So  saying,  the  young  priest  seemed  to  be  greatly 
dlated;  but,  just  in  the  height  of  it,  and  while  be 
was  still  planning  and  plotting,  in  his  own  mind, 
how  he  should  carry  out  his  newly-formed  scheme, 
a  signal,  which  apprised  him  that  the  Father  Gen- 
eral required  his  presence  to  attend  the  nun  to  her 
home,  interrupted  nis  reverie,  and  called  him  down 
stairs.  Here  he  found  tiie  latter  awaiting  him,  with 
avertod  ooltntenanoe,  outside  the  chamber  door  of 


mVIBBXBS  OF  ▲  OOVTXaVT* 


118 


fhe  Genend  t  '^^  the  two,  detoending  to  iha  yard, 
loon  found  their  way  to  the  street,  and  rapidly 
walked  towards  the  part  of  the  city  in  which  Iflx. 
Wilmot  lived. 

Daring  the  fifteen  minutes  which  elapsed  before 
reaching  the  residence  of  the  nun,  the  secretary  had 
made  such  good  use  of  his  time,  th8^.  she  had  pro« 
mised  to  take  a  walk  with  him,  for  the  benefit  of  her 
health,  on  the  following  night ;  it  being  agreed  up- 
on, between  them,  that,  at  dark,  she  should  retire  to 
her  room,  on  pretence  of  a  headache,  while  he  would 
walk  slowly  before  the  house,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  way ;  and,  when  she  discovered  him,  she 
was  to  steal  quietly  out  into  the  street,  aud  join  him. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  nun  found  it  a  very  tire-^ 
some  affair  to  be  cooped  up  in  a  small  house,  day 
after  day,  with  nothing  to  do ;  while  the  busy  scenes 
in  the  street  upon  which  she  looked,  day  after  day, 
excited  her  woman's  curiosity  to  know  more  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  world  around  her  ;  and,  as  she 
did  not  dare  to  go  out  alone,  by  day  or  by  night,  she 
looked  upon  the  offer  of  the  handsome  young  Italian 
as  affording  her  just  what  she  wanted,  an  opportuni- 
ty for  rambling  about  unobserved,  and  of  taking  a 
peep  at  men  and  things  as  they  existed  outside  of 
the  walls  of  a  convent. 

They  did  ramble  about,  for  two  good  hours,  that 
night  of  their  appointment ;  and,  while  the  secretary 
continued  to  amuse  her  childish  curiosity,  by  means 
of  many  strange  sights  and  sounds  which  attracted 
her  observation  and  fell  upon  her  ear,  he  managed 
most  adroitly,  and  all  unconsciously  to  her,  to  draw 
from  her,  indirectly,  a  number  of  items  which  gave 
him,  unitedly,  some  clue  to  the  grand  plot  who*  3 
existence  he  suspected,  and  of  whose  nature  he  felt 
anxious  to  have  some  knowledge. 

These  nocturnal  ramblings  were  kept  up  for  a 
considerable  length  of  time ;  but,  as  they  did  not  oc« 
enr  of  toner  than  onoe,  or  at  most,  twice  a  week,  and 


116 


KT8TBBIS8  bV  A  00N7JUIT. 


gnat  oare  wai  taken  that  they  should  not  he  ex- 
tended to  tuoh  an  hour  in  the  night  as  would  bo 
likely  to  plaoe  the  nun  in  the  i>osition  of  being  lock- 
ed out  after  the  family  had  retired  to  rest,  they  were 
not  discovered ;  while  they  led  to  consequenceB  which 
will  haye  an  important  bearing  upon  future  eyents 
in  the  progress  of  this  story. 


CHAPTER  XXm. 

Alice's  parents— Placed  in  a  convent  at  an  early  age— New 
feelings  produced  bylnew  scenes — Evening  rambles  •- 
Mutual  attachment— The  dawning  of  light— Its  effect  up- 
on Fietro  and  Alice— Their  conversation  and  resolution 

• 

Thb  nun,  whom  the  Father  General  had  found  in  a 
oonyent  in  Canada,  aud  brought  to  New  York,  to 
personate  the  deoeased  Sister  Theresa,  was  the 
daughter  of  Ck)lonel  Soule,  a  French  officer  of  dis- 
tinction, who  had  been  killed  in  a  duel,  near  Mon- 
treal ;  and  whose  widow  had  placed  the  young 
Alice,  then  only  five  years  old,  in  the  care  of  the  Ab- 
bess, while  she  returned  to  France,  to  see  after  her 
husband's  property.  The  French  Eeyolution  had,  in 
the  meantime,  broken  out^  and  Madame  Soule  died, 
a  prey  to  anxiety  and  gnef .  The  orphaned  Alice 
had|  therefore,  grown  up  in  the  conyent,  without 
hayug  ever  been  outside  of  its  walls  from  the  day 
upon  which  she  entered  them,  until  that  when,  in 
companjr  with  the  Father  General,  she  had  started 
for  the  city :— she  haying  preyiously  passed  her  no- 
yitiate,  and  been  a  nun  for  some  two  years. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  that,  when 
this  young  creature,  inheriting  all  the  yivacity  of  the 
French  character,  and  train^  amid  the  gloooa  and 
monotony  of  conyeutual  scenes,  was  placed,  wholly 
inezperieuoed,  in  the  midst  of  a  large  and  crowded 
dty,  like  New  York,  full  of  noyel  sights,  which  ex- 
cited her  curiosity  and  called  into  active  exercise  her 
ardent  imaginationi  with  what  she  saw  and  heard 


sctraCBfiiss  09  a  oonvekt. 


117 


around  her  contrasted  so  strangely  with  the  austere 
aspect  of  things  as  they  existed  in  the  prison-house 
in  which  she  had  been  reared,  she  should  be  fascinat- 
ed with  the  new  world  into  which  she  had  been  so 
suddenly  ushered,  and  should  look  forward,  with 
dread,  to  the  period  of  her  return  to  that  living  tomb. 
Especially  is  not  this  to  be  wondered  at,  when  it  is 
remembered  that  her  Cicerone  was  a  young  and 
handsome  Italian,  of  noble  family ;  whose  accom- 
plished manners  and  whose  brilliant  talents  had,  at 
first,  been  employed  to  win  from  her  all  she  knew  in 
reference  to  the  plot  of  the  General ;  but  which  had 
accomplished  results,  to  both,  but  little  dreamed  of 
by  either;  for  he  had  awakened  feelings  in  her 
mind,  to  which  she  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger ; 
while,  in  his  turn,  he  felt  that  the  flame  which  he 
had  kindled  in  her  bosom,  burned  also  in  his  own. 

Indeed,  the  circumstances  of  these  two  young 
persons  were  somewhat  similar ;  for  he  had  been 
placed,  for  family  reasons,  at  a  very  tender  age,  in 
a  monaster;^  at  Home  ;  and  had  been  educated 
wholly  within  its  walls,  in  all  the  artifice  and  trick- 
ery  of  the  Jesuits,  until,  discoyering  peculiar  talent 
for  intrigue,  he  had,  at  the  age  of  twenty  three 
years,  been  selected  by  the  head  of  the  order  there, 
and  sent  to  this  country,  in  company  with  the  Le- 
gate on  his  visit  of  installation,  as  private  secretary 
to  the  Father  General ;  for  the  double  purpose  of 
acting  as  w.  ;\Dy  upon  the  movements  of  the  latter, 
and  of  obliging  the  rich  and  powerful  family  of  the 
Lodetti,  who  had  their  own  reasons  for  desiring  that 
Pietro  should  be  removed  as  far  from  them  as  pos- 
sible. Since  his  arrival  in  the  United  States,  he  bad, 
as  a  quick  observer  and  an  intelligent  reasouer,  ac- 
quired new  views  of  men  and  things.  Life  pre- 
sented itself,  to  his  mind,  in  an  entirely  novel  as- 
pect; and  he  began  secretly  to  form  conclusions, 
even  to  project  plani,  which  startled  himself,  accus- 
tomed at  ho  had  been  previously  to  a  blind  aubmid* 


lis 


inrSTEMKS  of  k  COKVKUT, 


Bion  to  the  will  of  his  Superiors,  and  to  h'>ve  big 
thoughts  take  their  complexion  from  the  colouring 
of  those  who  had  assumed  to  think  for  him.  Yet  the 
▼err  novelty  and  daring  of  these  new  conceptions 
had  a  peculiar  charm  for  his  ezcitahleand  naturally 
enterprising  disposition,  and  were,  therefore,  readily 
indulged  hy  him. 

If,  then,  Alice  felt  like  a  hird  let  loose,  for  the  first 
time  ihrom  a  cage  in  which  it  had  heen  raised,  and 
disjposed  to  soar  aloft  into  the  hlue  ether,  upoD  those 
pinions  which  hitherto  had  heaten  in  vain  against 
its  prison  hars ;  his  feelings  resemhled  those  of  one 
who,  shut  ap  from  infancy  in  the  dark  cavern,  by 
and  hy  emerj^es  upon  green  fields,  lit  up  hy  the  glad- 
some sunshine ;  and,  after  staudinfit  f<^r  a  time,  gaz- 
ing in  mute  amazement  upon  the  freshly  developed 
beauties  of  nature,  at  length  longs  to  roam  over 
those  fields,  and  become  better  acquainted  with 
those  beauties. 

Their  rambles  through  the  city,  by  night,  had  serv- 
ed to  attach  these  two  oeings  to  each  other,  in  strong 
and  mystic  ties :— the  stronger  because  they  had  be- 
come mutually  acquainted  with  each  other's  history; 
and  their  souls  so  mingled  in  sympathy  and  affec« 
tion,  that  their  confidence  was  perfect — no  thought 
which  sprang  up  in  the  mind  of  the  one,  being  held 
back  from  the  other. 

During  one  of  these  excursions,  they  happened  to 
pass  near  a  Protestant  church,  in  which  the  regular 
ni^ht  service  was  conducted.  Prompted  by  curi- 
osity, they  entered,  and  took  their  seats  in  the  first 
pew  they  came  to.  Here,  unobserved  themselves, 
Decanse  seated  in  the  rear  of  the  entire  congrega- 
^on,  they  looked  with  deep  interest,  for  tlie  first 
time  in  their  lives,  upon  the  simple  form  of  religioas 
service — so  plain,  so  fervant,  so  rational ;— and 
eonld  not  help  eontrasting  it  with  the  comnlex  and 
pompous  etremonial  of  their  own  church;  m, 
wbtD  thus  mlubter  arose,  and  in  earnest  tooei  gave 


ttrdrci^lKs  o^  a  co^iVsnt. 


11» 


out  biB  text— '*  Ye  shall  know  the  truth;  and  the 
truth  shall  make  you  free;"— they  listened  with  rapt 
ottention  to  his  delineation  of  true  spiritual  freedom, 
the  means  hy  which  it  is  attained,  and  the  result  of 
this  freedom,  to  the  indiviclual,  the  nation,  the  world 
at  large.  As  they  listened,  new  ^iews  of  human 
rights,  of  human  happiuess^  of  divine  truth,  all  con- 
lonaut  as  they  were  with  right  reason,  sprang  up  in 
their  minds,  aiid  placed  thetnsolves  in  striking  op- 
position to  the  dogmas  in  wliich  they  ha^^  been  in* 
struoted,  and  the  slavery,  mental,  moral,  and  physi- 
cal, in  which  they  had  been  hitherto  held.  They 
felt  as  did  the  monk  of  Eisloben,  when  he  found  the 
long  neglected  Latin  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  iu 
the  library  of  his  convent;  and,  while  reading  it, 
'*  his  soul  kindled  with  new  energy,  as  he  saw  how 
truth  had  been  wronged  hy  ignorant  piety  and  hypo- 
critical infidelity."  And  as  contact  with  the  opinions 
of  freemen,  who  regarded  liberty  as  their  birthright, 
had  induced  opinions  and  feelings  in  ttie  minds  of 
those  who,  under  the  leadii?g  of  La  Fayette  and  his 
gallant  associates,  had  crossed  the  broad  Atlantic  to 
aid  the  colonies  in  America  in  achieving  their  liber- 
ties,—which  had  led  to  the  attempt— unsuccessful 
though  it  was—to  accomplish  the  same  result  in 
France,  on  their  return  home,— so,  iu  reference  to 
the  young  secretary  and  Alice,  they  felt  that  their 
birthright  had  been  withheld  from  them  and,  that 
God  and  man  would  Justify  the  effort  to  secure  its 
restoration. 

The  service  concluded,  the  secretary  and  his  com- 
panion left  the  church,  and  directed  their  steps  to- 
wards Mr.  Wilmot's ;— walking  slowly,  for  their 
minds  were  busy  with  the  solution  of  problems  whieh 
bad  been  presented  to  them,  for  the  first  time,  that 
fiigbt.  At  length,  the  former  said  to  Alice,  in  tonee 
which  indicated  deep  thought,  as  well  as  honest  oon- 
vietioQ : 

^  Alioe^  we  lia?e  been  asleep,     lauauied  wiihta 


(IM  ' 


Wl 


w 


•■  J^\ 


120 


MT0TSBISS  07  A  COinTElfT* 


coiiTentual  walli,  we  had  do  knowledge  of  the  exis- 
tence of  any  other  world  than  that  we  found  around 
Qi.  Instructed  in  the  dogmas  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
we  haye  been  taught  to  belieye  that  all  besides  is 
heresy,— damnable  doctrine,  unworthy  of  our  belief, 
and  insulting  to  Heaven,  as  well  as  destructive  of 
the  souL  But  we  have  awaked  to  find  that  tliere  is 
a  populous  world  outside  of  the  microcosm  in  which 
we  have  been  reared  ;— a  nopulous  world,  whose  in- 
habitants enjoy  life,  and  liberty,  under  the  benign 
influence  Of  a  religion  which  is  simple  iu  its  forms, 
but  which  appears  mighty  in  its  effects ;  a  religion 
embraced  by  millions,  and  which  is  at  once  di^^iiifying 
to  man,  since  it  frees  him  from  tyranny ;  and  hon- 
ourable to  Qod,  since  it  represents  him  not  as  en- 
slaving the  mind  and  heart  of  man,  but  as  the  great 
deliverer  from  thraldom.  I  feel  that  I  have  awaked 
to  a  new  existence ;  methiuks  I  breathe  a  purer  at- 
mosphere than  I  did  in  Home.  I  am  a  freeman !  How 
is  it  with  thee,  dearest  Alice  P" 

**  Pietro,  I  feel  strange ;"— replied  Alice,  wliile  her 
voice  trembled  with  emotion.  **  I  do  not  know  what 
to  think,  nor  what  to  say.  I  am  bewildered,  *  Ye 
shall  know  the  truth ;  and  tie  truth  shall  make  you 
free.'    Pietro,  what  is  truth  ?" 

'*  Truth,  in  the  abstract,  Alice,  is  accordance  with 
fact  and  reality.  Moral  truth  must  be  in  ccjuformity 
with  the  character  and  will  of  Him  who  is  the  great 
Moral  Governor  of  the  world :— the  great  moral 

Srinciples  laid  down  by  Him  for  man's  government, 
nding  their  developement  in  the  administration  of 
divine  grace  and  providence,  ultimatiug  in  the  re- 
tributions of  Eternity,  and  justified  by  the  results, 
in  the  sight  of  men,  of  angels,  and  of  devils.  Ton 
and  I^  Alice,  have  been  taught  to  believe  that  the 
truth  18  alone  to  be  found  within  the  pale  of  Holy 
Mother  Church :  but,  if  so,  how  is  this  assertion  to  be 
fecondled  with  the  corrupt  and  tyrannical  practioei 
of  the  ohoioli ;  where  ii  the  aooordanoe  betweeo  the 


EST* 

l|{e  o|  the  exis- 
e  found  around 
latholic  Church, 
at  all  besides  is 
tiy  of  our  beliet 
8  destructive  of 
Ind  that  tliereiB 
rocoBm  in  which 
world,  whose  in- 
nder  the  benign 
iple  in  its  forms, 
fecta;  a  religion 
itoncedipiiifying 
ranny ;  and  hon- 
ts  him  not  as  en- 
i,  but  as  the  great 
at  I  have  awaked 
reathe  a  purer  at- 
I  a  freeman  I  How 

Bd  Alice,  while  hei 

lo  not  know  WMt 

bewildered,  *  Ye 

th  shall  make  you 

B  accordance  with 
t  be  in  c(mfornnty 

■-i  who  is  the  great 
the  great  moral 
lan's  government, 
ladmiuistration  of 
mating  in  the  re- 
led  by  the  results, 
■of  devils.    You 
p  believe  that  the 
Kbe  pale  of  Holy 
SbisasserUontow 
rrannical  practicei 
-iaac©  between  the 


UlSTKUnS  OV  A  OONVBIVT* 


121 


roTealed  oharaoier  of  Jehoyah,  and  the  grand  die- 
tiiiotlTe  features  of  OatholidBm,  and  what,  I  begin 
to  fear,  are  ita  direot  and  necessary  tendencies? 
Where  is  the  accordant  truth — ^this  freedom  of  which 
we  have  heard,  to-night  for  the  first  time  in  all  our 
lives  P  We  have  hitherto  seen  neither.  On  the  con- 
trary, we  have  been  taught  that  the  very  essence  of 
oar  religion  consisted  in  submission  to  the  will  of 
our  suporiors,  and  in  our  reli^ous  tows  of  poverty, 
chastity,  and  obedience ; — which  sooth  tq  say,  seem 
to  be  solemn  mockeries  in  the  estimation  of  those  to 
whom  we  made  them :  if,  indeed,  we  are  to  consider 
their  lives  as  commentaries  upon  their  principles-* 
we  have  beenled  to  surrender  ourselves,  body,  soul, 
and  spirit,  to  their  control.  I  very  much  fear  that  the 
dogmas  of  our  church  are  incapable  of  bearing  the 
test  of  truth ;  and  I  lonji^  to  share  that  liberty  which 
seems  to  be  the  birthnght  of  man,  and  to  be  so 
largely  enjoyed  by  the  people  in  whose  midst  our 
lot  has  been  so  strangely  cast.  I  fear  that  I  am  fast 
becoming  an  heretic ;  but  I  cannot  help  it." 

**  It  is  strange,  Pietro,  that  I  have  much  the  same 
thoughts  and  feelings :  and  it  is  passing  strange,  as 
you  say.  how  we  have  been  thrown  into  this  new 
world  of  thought  and  feeling,  of  freedom  and  hap- 
piness. You  must  instruct  me,  Pietro  ;  I  know  not 
how  to  bring  my  little  bark  to  shore,  from  themidst 
of  the  billows  which  arise  tumultuously  around  me.** 
"I  will,  Alice,  with  all  mjr  heart," — replied  Pietro* 
*'But,"— continued  he,  taking  her  hana  in  his,  and 
pressing  it  tenderly,  while  he  spoke  in  soft,  yet  die* 
tinct  tones,  which  thrilled  through  her  woman's 
heart,  pulsating  as  it  did  in  every  throb  for  him,  and 
for  him  alone :  ^  promise  me,  Alice,  that,  in  good  or 
ill,  in  weal  or  woe,  whatever  may  be  our  future  lot, 
Oir  lives  and  our  fate  shall  be  one  and  inseparable^ 
—that  we  shall  never  be  separated." 
H|*J^everr'— said  Alice,  clinging  to  his  arm,  and 
looking  up  into  his  face,  with  a  oountenanoe  which 
224  T 


-■J  I 

ti 


122 


KYSTKUTRS  OF  k  COTTKNT, 


! 


was  suifased  with  the  blush  of  maidea  modesty,  bal 
which  spoke  the  deep  trosiol  her  soul,  and  the  firm- 
ness of  W  deoisioiu 

*'  Heaven  bless  thee,  dearest  Alice,  for  that  word. 
Now  will  I  protect  thee  with  my  life,  and  lead  yoo, 
as  best  I  may.  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  liberty  for 
which  we  botn  pant.  The  vows  that  we  made,  wero 
made  in  ignorance ;  they  must  be  displeasing  to  God, 
because  evidently  repugnant  to  the  truth  of  things. 
He  will  absolve  us ;  and  His  truth  will  make  us  free 
from  the  tyranny  of  man.  All  will  be  right,  Alice. 
Trust,  and  be  prudent*  Let  us  bide  our  time.  We 
shall  vet  be  free  1" 

He  nad  become  so  much  excited,  while  uttering 
the  last  few  words,  that  his  voice  was  raised  to  a 

Eitch  which  would  have  endangered  their  safety, 
ad  any  prying  one  been  ni^h ;  but  fortunately  none 
observed  the  interesting  pair,  or  heard  the  words  of 
treason  against  the  interests  of  Borne,  save  the  loved 
one  to  whom  they  were  addressed,  and  the  Great  Be- 
ing who  had  witnessed  thu  plighting  of  their  troth, 
and  who  doubtless  approved  the  act,  notwithstand- 
ing the  vows  which  they  had  made  to  the  Holy  Mo- 
ther Ohuroh,  in  ignorance  and  in  superstition. 

They  soon  reached  Mr.  Wilmot's  door ;  and,  as 
they  stood  a  momenty  before  parting  for  the  night, 
Pietro  said  to  Alice : 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  we  both  need  a  guide  in  our 
new  situation,  as  regards  both  our  position  to  the 
church,  and  our  inauiry  after  truth ;  and,  as  I  have 
no  longer  any  oonfidence  in  our  old  ones,  which  serye 
hat  to  DC  wilder  and  mislead  us,  I  shall,  on  to-mor- 
tow.  procure  a  copy  of  the  Protestant  Bible,  and 
lead  it  for  mjrself .  I  shall  also  get  a  copy  for  you, 
Alice,  and  bring  it  with  me,  when  next  I  come. 
Meanwhile,  we  will  oome  to  visit  that  Protestant 
church,  evwy  Thursday  night,  where  we  heard  such 
thingi,  this  evening.  Farewell,  dearest— be  prudent 
•ad  1oqA[  to  tU  Gfeat  Sonree  of  Light,  life,  and  U- 
iMBly,  for  help  end  for  guidaiDoe.   Good  night, ' 


[en  modesty,  but 
»ul,  and  the  fizin- 

te,  for  that  word. 
ie,  and  lead  you, 
f  that  liberty  for 
±  we  made,  were 
spleaBingtoGocl, 
9  trath  of  things. 
will  make  us  free 
U  be  right,  Alice. 
le  our  time.    We 

i,  while  uttering 
B  was  raised  to  a 
ired  their  safety, 
;  fortunately  none 
eard  the  words  of 
ne,  save  the  loved 
md  the  Great  Be- 
ng  of  their  troth, 
,ct,  notwithstand- 
i  to  the  Holy  Mo- 
uperstition. 
;'b  door;  and,  as 
ing  for  the  night, 

sed  a  ^uide  in  our 
ir  position  to  the 
h;  and,  as  I  have 
ones,  which  serve 
shall,  on  to-mor- 
«tant  Bible,  and 
it  a  copy  for  you, 
en  next  I  come. 
t  that  Protestant 
are  we  heard  such 
ufest-be  prudent 

Qood  nigAtt' 


StTSTfeBIfid  (^  k  COKVBSlf. 


Hi 


So  saying,  he  tamed  away,  while  Alice  sought  bet 
room,  and,  kneeling  down,  not  in  rrayer,  as  usaaly 
to  Mary—*'  the  refuge  of  sinners"— but  to  ffim^  who 
is  ^^Vietoay.and  the  truths  and  the  life,"  she  poured 
out  her  soul  in  devout  supplication  that  He  would 
lead  tiiem  into  an  acquaintance  with  the  way  of  sal- 
vation, and  guide  them  in  their  present  difficult  dr- 
oumstanoes. 


CHAPTER  XXrV. 

Alice's  ignorance  of  the  true  nature  of  the  plot  she  was  en 
gaged  hi— Her  anxiety  on  that  account— Her  determin- 
ation to  act  riffbt— Arrival  of  Mr.  Prentiss— Alice's  i^ 
turbation  and  alarm  in  consequence— Her  interview 
with  Mr,  Prentiss— Alice  divulges  the  particulars  to  Mr. 
Prentiss — His  astonishment  at  the  recital — His  deter- 
mination  to  befriend  Alice— Escape  of  Pietro  and  Alice, 

Thbeb  months  had  now  passed  since  Alice  had  writ- 
ten the  letter  to  the  south,  in  the  name  of  Emilie  de 
Vere,  which  had  been  dictated  to  her  in  the  name  of 
the  Father  General.  Mr.  Wilmot,  if  he  knew  any- 
thing of  her  intimacv  with  the  secretary,  said  no- 
thing about  it;  and  tne  latter,  together  with  Alice, 
was  almost  ready  to  make  a  public  recantation  of 
Boman  Catholicism,  and  to  profess  the  Protestant 
faith,  when  a  circumstance  occurred,  which  placed 
her  in  an  exceedingly  embarrassing  situation,  and . 
had  like  to  have  ruined  the  plot  of  the  Jesuit,  era 
yet  it  had  matured. 

Alice,  on  being  brought  to  New  York^  had  been 
told  that,  for  reasons  which  involved  the  interests  of 
the  order,  and  which  it  was  not  necessary  she  should 
then  be  made  acquainted  with,  she  waste  personate 
Emilie  de  Vere,  a  youug  girl,  who  was  about  her  owa 
a^,  height,  complexion,  &o ;  whose  father  was  a  Mr. 
Charles  de  Vere,  formerly  a  resident  of  New  York 
gty,  but,  for  some  years,  of  the  parish  of  B&tpn 
Boiu(e,  in  Louirianai  a  wealthy  planter ;  and  whoM 
iwwer  haA  been  dMd  lor  many  yean.  She  wm  fm^ 


I 


Mi^. 


B 


^ 


tu 


HtbTBUtBS  Olf  k  CDl^VBSlf . 


Inn  8 


ther  told  that  the  ^art  which  she  was  expected  to 
aoty  from  time  to  time,  would  he  communicated  to 
her,  as  it  became  necessary,  and  that  she  was  on  no 
account  to  take  any  step,  or  to  answer  any  questions, 
beyond  what  was  stated  to  her,  without  leave  and 
instructions  from  the  Father  Qeneral.  The  part 
which  she  had  acted  before  the  mayor's  court,  had 
all  been  arranged  for  her  beforehand,  and  the  very 
language,  as  far  as  practicable,  dictated  to  her ;  as 
the  General  had  anticipated,  to  some  extent,  the 
eourse  which  things  would  take  under  his  direction, 
aided  by  his  accomplice,  Mr.  Wilmot. 

At  that  time,  she  never  dreamed,  for  a  moment, 
that  she  had  a  will  of  her  own,  or  that  it  would  he  ^ 
anything  short  of  perdition  for  her  to  ouestion  the 
right  of  her  superiors,  whenever  required  to  do  their 
bidding.  She  was  a  mere  automaton,  moved  as  they 
might  please.  But  now  that  new  light  had  broken 
into  her  soul,  and  that  she  had  acquired  new  views 
of  her  rights  and  duties  as  an  accountable  mord 
agent,  who  owed  an  allegiance  to  high  heaven,  para- 
mount to  any  that  she  was  under  to  any  earthly 
power,  she  felt  exceedingly  distressed  at  the  part  that 
the  had  acted  heretofore,  and  hardly  knew  what 
course  to  adopt  for  the  future.  She  had  consulted 
freely  with  Pietro  upon  the  subject ;  but  he  felt 
himself  wholly  incompetent  to  advise  her.  If  she 
went  forward  to  the  majror,  and  confessed  to  him 
the  truth,  her  former  acting  in  the  part  which  she 
had  played  before  him,  would  cause  him  to  suspect 
her  sincerity  now,  and  might  place  her  in  circum- 
stances of  danger  to  her  personal  liberty:  for  he 
would  probably  regard  her  as  insane ;  consider  the 
idea  of  insanity,  as  formerly  set  up,  and  disregarded 
through  the  testimony  of  the  examining  physicians, 
as  being  founded  in  fact ;  and  order  her  to  be  re- 
turned to  the  Father  Qeneral,  who  would  not  fail 
to  initiot  most  leTeie  punishment  upon  her,  while 
Pietro  wooid  be  in  no  situation  to  protect  her.  Oooi 


1ETSTISBIE8  OV  A  OOirVSllT. 


135 


In  tb«  power  of  the  General,  and  she  knew  her  ie« 
paration  from  Fietro  would  be  final  and  for  erer* 
She  could  not  consult  with  Mr.  Wilmot ;  for  he  waa 
but  the  creature  of  the  General.  She  could  not  throw, 
herself  upon  the  mercy  of  the  latter,  and  bej(  him  to 
procure  the  services  of  some  one  else  in  the  decep* 
tion  in  which  she  was  made  to  bear  a  conspicuous 
part,  for  this  would  enrage  him,  and  separate  her 
from  Fietro ;  since  she  would  be  instantly  sent  back 
to  the  convent;  and  she  dreaded  the  fate  that  would 
await  her  there.  '*  Ferhaps,"  thought  she,  ignorant 
of  the  magnitude  of  the  plot  in  which  she  was  in- 
volved—" perhaps,  after  all,  it  may  be  a  small  affair.' 
and  that  I  may  nave  but  little  more  to  do  with  it.  1 
must  bide  my  time,  and  act  ai  circumstances  may  re* 
quire.  I  will  not,  if  I  can  help  it,  act  dishonestly. 
God  help  me  to  do  right." 

That  prayer,  though  but  an  ejaculation,  was  made 
in  sincerity,  and  was  heard  in  heaven.  God  did 
help  her,  and  did  reward  her  for  daring,  novice  as 
she  was  in  ethics,  to  do  what  her  conscience  approv- 
ed, in  spite  of  the  difficulties  which  surrounded  her. 

While  sitting  in  her  room,  one  morning,  reading 
the  Protestant  Bible  which  Fietro  had  given  her, 
with  her  door  locked,  lest,  though  in  a  professedly 
Protestant  family,  her  secret  should  be  betrayed  to 
the  Jesuit  General,  a  gentle  rap  announced  that  some 
one  wanted  her.  Hastily  concealing  the  blessed  to« 
lume  which  had  already  given  her  moral  courage  as 
well  as  moral  freedom,  she  opened  the  door,  and  was 
surprised  to  see  Mr.  Wilmot  himself  standing  there, 
who  informed  her  that  a  Mr.  Frentiss,  of  Louisiana, 
desired  to  see  her  in  the  parlour. 

"I  suspect,"  he  added,  "  that  it  is  some  one  oon« 
nected  with  that  business  of  yours  in  the  south,  from 
a  question  or  two  that  he  asked  of  me.'* 

Alice  felt  her  heart  beating  violently  within  h&t 
breast,  and  as  if  she  were  about  to  suffocate ;  but 
suddenly,  and  with  great  effort^  rallying  hereelfi  sho 


IM 


IRHl'JUtXSS  OV  ▲  OOAVJUi'f* 


informed  Mr.  Wilmot  that  she  would  be  in  the  par* 
lonr  in  a  few  minutes,  and  turned  to  her  toilet,  as  if 
to  adjust  her  dress.  As  soon,  however,  as  he  had 
dosed  the  door,  and  gone  down  stairs  with  his  mes- 
sa^,  she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and,  throwing 
herself  upon  her  knees,  for  a  moment  or  two,  ear- 
nestly implored  guidance  and  help  from  on  high. 
llien,  arismg,  and  bathing  her  eyes,  she  arranged 
her  hair,  and  went  down  to  the  parlour. 

On  her  entrance  into  this  room,  she  saw,  seated 
upon  the  sofa,  a  venerable-looking  gentleman,  of 
some  fifty-five  years  of  age,  very  genteelly  dressed 
in  a  full  suit  of  black— his  countenance  expressive  at 
once  of  intellect  and  of  ^reat benignity.  Bising  from 
his  seat,  as  Alice  entered  the  room,  he  advanced  to 
meet  her,  and,  with  a  manner  full  of  sympathy  for 
one  whom  he  looked  upon  as  the  victim  of  Bomish 
oppression,  he  said — 

**I  have  the  pleasure,  I  presume,  of  taking  by  the 
hand  the  daughter  of  my  much-esteemed  friend, 
Oharles  de  Yere.  Let  me  assure  vou,  Miss  Emilie, 
lor  that  I  believe  is  your  name,  that  it  affords  me 
great  satisfaction  to  see  you  looking  so  well,  and  iu 
such  good  hMdth." 

Thus  saving,  and  shaking  her  most  cordially  by 
the  hand,  he  led  her,  with  the  finished  manners  of  a 
polished  ^ntleman,  to  a  seat  on  the  sofa ;  and  then, 
seating  himself  near  her,  entered  into  conversation 
with  her,  as  to  the  circumstances  which  had  prevent- 
ed him  from  sooner  paying  a  visit  to  her.  He  was 
■nrprised  to  find,  however,  that  she  was  ezceediugly 
bashful  and  reserved;  that  her  colour  came  and 
went  with  fitful  frequency;  and  that  there  was 
something  about  her  whole  deportment,  which  seem- 
ed to  him  singular.  Yet,  recollecting  that  she  had 
been  reared  in  a  convent,  had  been  for  some  time  a 
nun;  and  was  now  a  refugee  from  its  walls,  he  felt 
disposed,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  to  attribute  it 
•U  lolha  paiti  and  to  account  ior  it  on  the  «oore  4 


-<r  •* 


KTBSBBZBB  07  ▲  iX)JRVJUIV* 


127 


fhtt  aoenea  which  the  must  have  passed  throngh,  on 
her  ahandonment  of  a  oonTentuai  life ;  Mr.  "Wlliiiot 
havinff  painted  to  him,  while  waiting  for  Alice,  ill 
Tery  florid  colours,  her  arrival  at  his  house  at  night, 
the  assemhling  of  the  mob  the  next  morning,  the 
visit  to  the  mavor's  office,  and  the  result— taking 
care  to  representhimself  in  the  most  favourable  light 
possible. 

Mr.  "Wilmot  having  left  the  parlour  a  few  moments 
after  Alice  had  entered  it,  Mr.  Prentiss  exerted  him- 
self to  place  Alice  at  her  ease  with  him,  preparatory 
to  conversinff  with  her  upon  business ;  but,  findinji^ 
this  impossiMe,  and  that  every  effort  seemed  to  agi- 
tate her  the  more — he  said  to  her, 

'*  Your  letter  addressed  to  your  father.  Miss  Emi- 
lie,  was  received  in  due  time,  but  was  not  read  bv 
him.  He  had  made  his  will,  and  entrusted  his  busN 
ness  to  me,  as  his  executor.  He  was  dead." 

Here  Alice's  feelings  completely  overcame  her 
with  shame  at  the  part  she  was  called  upon  to  act ; 
and  she  wept  freely.  Thinking  this  most  natural, 
under  the  circumstances,  Mr.  Ftentiss  proceeded — 

'*  Do  not  weep,  my  dear  Miss  Emilie,  so  bitterly. 
You  have  every  reason  to  comfort  yourself.  Al- 
though your  letter  did  not  reach  your  father,  in  time 
to  assure  him  of  your  recantation  of  Boman  Oatho- 
licism,  and  desire  to  return  to  him.  still  he  loved 
you  very^  dearly,  and  felt  assured  of  your  affection 
for  him,  in  spite  of  the  past.  He  regarded  the  steps 
that  you  haa  taken,  in  becoming  a  nun,  as  the  result 
of  deception  upon  the  part  of  the  Mother  Superior 
of  the  convent,  or  on  that  of  some  of  the  priests  ;  and, 
although  he  bitterly  regretted  it,  yet  he  aied  at  peace 
with  you,  and,  in  proof  of  this,  made  you  his  sole 
legatee,  on  condition  that  you  would  renounce  Bo- 
manism^nd,  forsaking  the  convent,  cease  to  be  a 
uun.  His  estate  amounts  to  something  more  than 
half  a  million  of  dollars.  Your  letter  informs  me 
(hat  the  condition  had  been  complied  with,  bef  osa 


128 


IffYBSBBZBS  OV  A  OONVXNT* 


Tou  became  aware  of  its  existenoe ;  you  are.  then- 
fore,  tlie  undisputed  ])088e88or  of  this  yast  fortune 
•^and  will  enter  upon  its  enloyment  as  soon  as  some 
technicalities  of  the  law  can  be  complied  with,  which 
will  require  but  a  brief  delay.  Meanwhile,  as  I  pre- 
sume TOU  may  want  some  funds  for  immediate  use, 
I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  handing  you  a  thousand 
doUars,  which  I  nave  brought  with  me  for  that  pur- 
pose. The  relations  of  friendship  in  which  I  have 
stood  to  your  father,  and  the  attitude  in  which  I 
stand  to  the  estate,  and  to  yourself  as  the  heiress  of 
its  wealth,  will  warrant  me  in  tendering  to  you  my 
services,  as  a  protector,  until  you  shall  have  made 
Bucb  other  arrangements  as  vou  may  please." 

80  saying,  the  old  gentleman  drew  from  the 
breast-pocket  of  his  coat,  a  large  pocket  book,  and 
was  about  to  take  from  it  the  thousand  dollars, 
when,  to  his  utter  astonishment,  she  threw  herself 
upon  her  knees  before  him,  and,  while  the  tears  ran 
down  her  cheeks,  begged  him  to  take  pity  upon  one 
who  was  an  orphan,  indeed,  but  not  the  one  he  took 
her  for,  and  to  promise  her  upon  bis  word  of  honour, 
as  a  Christian  man  and  a  gentleman,  that  he  would 
not  divulge,  to  a  living  being,  what  she  was  ahout 
to  relate  to  him. 

The  old  man  looked  upon  the  beautiful  girl,  kneel- 
ing there  before  him,  with  a  heart  full  of  compas- 
sion ;  and  acquainted,  as  he  had  been  for  very  many 
years  past,  as  a  practising  lawyer  of  great  ability, 
with  umost  all  grades  and  phases  of  human  crime, 
and  to  look  upon  the  faces  of  timid,  as  well  as  of  un- 
daunted, rogues  and  criminals  of  both  sexes,  he  had 
become  a  most  excellent  judge  of  human  character. 
He  read  guilt  and  self-condemnation  in  her  couuten-' 
■ace,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  evidence  of  con- 
tHtion ;  and  wholly  unable  to  account  for  what  was 
transpiring  before  bim,  he  lifted  the  kneeling  ^'rlto 
her  seat,  and,  making  her  the  required  promise,  re- 
quested her  to  relate  ^eif  itory ;  a86urin|[  her  tb(it  I|9 


MI8TJBItZa8  07  L  OONVBIIT* 


129 


would  befriend  her,  wbomsoeyer  she  might  be,  if  ha 
oould  do  BO  confiistently  with  the  dictates  of  honour. 

Thus  reassured,  and  now  throwing  off  that  restraint 
and  painful  embarrassment  which  she  had  exhibit- 
ed  at  the  commencement  of  this  interview,  and  while 
hesitating  at  the  course  that  she  ought  to  pursue, 
but  which  disappeared  when  the  victory  was  deter- 
mined  for  conscience — Alice  proceeded  to  tell  Mr. 
Prentiss  all  that  had  transpirea,  so  far  as  she  was 
concerned  with  the  affair  of  the  substitution  of  her- 
self for  Emilie  de  Yere,  from  the  moment  of  her 
first  introduction  to  the  Father  General,  in  the  par- 
lour of  the  convent  in  Canada,  uj)  to  that  moment; 
assuring  him,  however,  that,  until  that  late  hour, 
she  never  knew  why  she  was  required  to  personate 
Miss  de  Yere,  nor  who  she  was ;  much  less  that  she 
was  heiress  to  a  large  estate,  and  that  she,  Alice, 
was  to  be  made  the  instrument  of  getting  this  estate 
into  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits. 

Mr.  Prentiss  was  thunderstruck.  He  was  a  Pro- 
testant, from  principle,  and  a  member  of  the  Metho- 
dist church.  His  feelings  were  averse  to  Bomanism ; 
but  that  so  daring  a  plot  should  have  been  concocted 
in  the  midst  of  an  enlightened  people,  involving  an 
immense  property,  and  should  have  come  so  nigh 
sacceeding,  for  he  could  not  doubt,  for  a  moment, 
that  the  witnesses  were  all  provided  to  establish  the 
identity  of  Emilie  de  Yere  in  the^  pretended  Alice ;  ^ 
that  this  damning  proof  of  the  high-handed  wick« 
edness  of  the  Jesuits  should  stare  him  in  the  face, 
there,  in  the  great  city  of  New  York,  staggered  his 
belief ;  and  he  was  almost  disposed  to  look  upon 
Alice  as  crazy,  or  as  attempting  to  deceive  him.  But, 
when  he  looked  at  her  really  intelligent  countenance, 
as  it  now  beamed  with  honest  satisfaction— the  truth 
having  been  told  ;~when  he  thought  how  straight- 
forward and  connected  her  narrative,  and  that  she 
could  not  Dossibly  have  any  interest  to  subserve, 
?b|le  sh^T^^n  a  |preat  risk  in  tbu9  <K>&fidin((her  story 


m??mse^:3Sm- 


IM 


VfRBBm  OV  ▲  CPOlimiT* 


to  a  iftii&gw.  who,  if  he  w«M  ditpoted,  might  do  her 
Tast  injury ;  he  was  foroed  to  tha  oonTiotioB  that  ihe 
had  made  a  trathf  al  oonf ession  to  him  and  that  it 
had  become  his  strange  privilege  to  look  upon  one  of 
the  daric  plots  of  Rome. 

«  Tour  story/'  said  he  to  Alioe,  "  shall  never  pass 
my  lips.  Bnt  what  do  you  propose  to  do  P  If  I  can 
befriend  you.  and  I  see  plain  enough  that  you  stand 
in  need  of  a  friend,  I  promise  }roQ  to  do  so. 

**  Your  frank  avowal  of  this  plot,  so  far  as  yon 
stand  oonneoted  with  it,  or  are  aware  of  its  features, 
has  saved  yon,  my  child,  from  very  serious  oonse- 
quenoes;  and  it  would  deeply  interest  me  to  know 
by  what  steps  you  have  been  led  to  adopt  the  course 
which  you  have  pursued.  But  for  this  we  have  not 
time,  xou  will  tell  me  that  the  Father  General  re- 
sides in  the  city,  and  that  this  Wilmot,  with  whom 
you  are  staying,  is  a  creature  of  his.  No  doubt  he  is 
already  apprised,  b^r  Wilmot,  of  my  presence  here; 
and  he  will  be  anxious  to  know  the  result  of  the 
interview  between  us.  Tell  me,  have  you  no  friends 
in  the  dty,  who  could  be  of  service  to  you  in  this 
«ztremity  P" 

"  I  have  but  one  friend,  sir,  in  this  world,  so  far 
as  I  know,  besides  yourself,  and  he  is  not  in  circum- 
stances to  aid  me." 

''Ah !  who  is  he  f"  inquired  Mr.  Prentiss,  with 
eagerness,  as  he  felt  interested  in  the  welfare  of  the 
interesting  girl;  and,  the  more  he  thought  dboutit, 
tiie  more  certain  he  became  that  the  Jesuits  would 
scusrifloeher  to  their  disappointed  avarice,  if  they 
should  discover  that  she  had  been  the  means  of  their 
defeat. 

''  He  is  a  young  priest,"  replied  Alice,  ''the  pii 
Tate  secretary  of  the  Father  General." 

*'  A  young  priest,  and  the  private  secretary  of  the 
Father  General !"  repeated  Mr.  Prentiss,  with  as- 
tonishment marked  in  his  countenance  and  tone  of 
tgioe.     ^ This ia more mysteiionsBtiU.   Ifear,ii^ 


KTBTBBIB8  01  ▲  OOXVUI'f* 


181 


ibfld,  that  7<m  ave.  indeed,  hopelettly  tntMigled  in 
fhe  ooilt  of  the  wiiT  Jesuits.  Who  is  this  yoong 
priest  P  Tell  me  all  about  him— for  I  would  serre 
yoa  if  I  can." 

Alioe  then  related  all  that  has  been  detaUed  to  the 
reader,  of  her  first  acquaintance  with  the  secretary 
—their  night  rambles  about  the  city— the  effect,  ou 
both  their  minds,  of  what  thev  saw  and  heard— their 
first  visit  to  the  Protestant  onurch,  and  the  sermon 
they  had  heard— its  effects  upon  them;  and  their 
subsequent  study  of  the  holy  scriptures,  according 
to  the  Protestant  version,  and  subseauent  priyate 
abnegation  of  Catholicism,  with  the  determination 
of  making  public  profession  of  the  Protestant  faith, 
on  a  convenient  occasion,  and  their  betrothment  in 
spite  of  their  monastic  vows. 

"And  you  say,"  replied  Mr.  Prentiss,  **  that  you 
and  your  young  friend,  the  secretary,  only  await  a 
convenient  opportunity  to  renounce  the  Oatholio 
church,  and  to  get  married.  Well,  truth  is  assured- 
ly  strangfer  than  fiction.  Here  is  a  villainous  plot 
concocted  by  this  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Je« 
suits  in  the  United  States,  to  get  possession  of  an 
immense  fortune  in  Louisiana,  by  the  substitution 
of  another  person  for  a  certain  nun,  in  order  that 
she  may  procure  that  fortune.  A  substitute  is 
brought  all  the  way  from  Canada  to  personate  the 
deceased  or  refractory  nun ;  she  becomes  acquainted 
with  and  betrothed  to  the  private  scretary  of  this 
aroh-j)lotter ;  they  embrace  the  Protestant  faith,  re* 
nouncing  their  own ;  and,  by  means  of  thia  conver- 
sion from  error  to  truth,  this  very  substitute  herself 
defeats  the  plot,  by  revealing  it,  and  saves  the  es« 
tate  from  passing  into  the  hands  of  the  conspirators 
against  truth  and  1  ustice.  Truly,  this  is  wonderfaU 
There  is  a  Qod  that  ruleth  in  the  heavens^  and  among 
the  affairs  of  thechildren  of  men. 

"I  am  not  wealthy,"  continued  Mr.  Prentiss,  who 
9eemed,  for  8omemomentS|tobe  ioet  in  deep  thou|;hl^ 


133 


XTBTBIXBB  OV  ▲  OOHTSHV* 


''bat  you  are  hooett,  child ;  and  I  think  that  toti 
and  thia  pHett-love  of  youra  would  do  yery  weU  if 
you  were  down  in  my  oountry.  What  say  you  to 
ffoiiig  with  me  P  I  will  pay  your  expenses  and  hii 
there.  Tou  can  be  married,  and  live  with  me,  while 
he  is  studying^ ;  and,  after  that,  my  word  for  it,  if 
he  is  the  man  you  represent  him  to  be,  he  will  nevef 
suffer  you  to  want." 

M  Come,"  added  the  good  old  man,  who  seemed  tc 
be  delighted  with  the  prospect,  '*  we  will  see  this 
lover  of  yours  this  very  night,  and  make  all  the  ne- 
cessary arrangements.  Tou  must  commuuicate  with 
him,  somehow,  aud  get  his  consent  to  the  plan. 
Mind,  I  shall  take  no  refusal.  But  we  must  get 
away  from  here  to-morrow  morning,  early ;  or  the 
blood-hounds  will  scent  us  out,  and  get  on  our  track.'* 

<*Thi8  is  Thursday,'*  said  Alice-**  if  the  Father 
General  does  not  hear  that  you  are  in  town,  Pietro 
will  call  for  me,  as  usual,  to  go  to  church  with  him ; 
and  if  he  does  hear  it,  he  will  be  sent  for  me.  So 
that,  in  any  event,  I  shall  get  to  see  him.  If  yon 
will  stand  at  that  comer," — here  Alice  pointed  out 
of  the  window  to  the  corner  of  the  next  square,  be* 
low  the  house  in  wbich  they  were—**  between  half* 
past  six  and  seven  o'clock  this  evening,  we  will  pass 
ihat  way,  when  you  can  join  us,  and  we  can  further 
talk  of  your  most  generous  offer. " 

**  Agreed,"  said  Mr.  Prentiss ;  and,  shaking  Alice 
cordially  by  the  hand,  he  bade  her  be  of  good  cour- 
a^  and  all  would  yet  be  well. 

Fortunately  for  all  of  them,  the  Father  General 
was,  that  night,  at  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciatiou ; 
having  been  sent  for,  post-haste,  by  the  Mother  Su- 
perior, who  had  some  important  communication  to 
make  to  him.  Pietro  called,  as  usual,  for  Alice,  who 
Informed  him  briefly  of  what  had  occurred,  and  of 
the  generous  offer  made  to  them  by  Mr.  Prentiss; 
and,  in  a  few  minutes,  they  joined  the  kind-hearted 
gmitiaiiiau.  who  was  waiting  for  thom  at  th^  corueir* 


ItYtCBBtBS  0>  A  OOKTBNt. 


ISS 


K.J  4 


Tie  three  walked  together  for  some  length  of 
tune ;  and^  before  they  parted,  the  offer  waa  acoept- 
ed,  and  the  arraDgements  all  made  for  their  depar- 
ture, the  next  day ;  both  Pietro  and  Alice  bavins 
most  heartily  thanked  their  benefactor,  and  invoked 
the  blesiinff  of  heaven  upon  him. 

The  mail  stage  of  the  next  dav,  going  South,  bore 
the  old  gentleman,  together  with  the  ex-nun,  and 
former  private  aecretiury ;  the  two  latter  bearing  no 
token  whatever  bv  which  the  most  scrutinizing  could 
have  discovered  that  they  ever  wore  sacred  orders. 

CHAPTER  XXV, 

Bespotio  rule  of  the  Mother  Superior^A  revolution  in  the 
ooDvent— The  insurrection  quelled  by  the  Father  Qen- 
eral— Alarming  intelligence,  on  his  return  to  New  York 
—His  frantic  conduct  In  consequence, 

Thbeb  days  had  elapsed  after  the  departure  of  the 
fugitives,  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Prentiss,  when, 
late  in  the  afternoon  <  'f  the  fourth,  the  Father  Gen* 
eral  returned  home,  ca  re- worn  and  gloomy.  He  had 
been  called  suddenly  to  the  convent,  to  quell  a  re* 
volt  among  the  nuns,  occasioned  by  the  tyrannical 
rule  of  the  Mother  Superior,  who  had  become  so 
capricious  in  her  temper,  and  so  captious  in  her  ad* 
ministration  of  the  government  of  the  establish* 
nient,  that  those  under  her  spiritual  care,  despairing 
of  redress  unless  effected  by  their  own  act,  had  risen, 
vrith  one  accord  and  without  a  solitar;]^  exception,  in 
open  rebellion ;  and,  deputing  a  committee  of  twelve 
of  their  number,  consisting  of  the  most  influential 
ones  among  them,  to  present  to  the  Superior  a  list 
of  their  grievances,  and  to  demand  redress,  under' 
pain  of  being  reported  to  tho  Father  General,  in  the 
event  of  her  refusal,  they  ceased  from  all  their  usuid 
avocations,  and  roamed  about  the  building,  at  their 
pleasure. 

Beemingit  her  best  policy  to  take  the  lead  in^ 
ealling  for  the  intervention  of  the  Qeneral,  sha  told 


c-S.. 


114 


KtBTBIU'IS  09  A  OOMVBHV.i 


the  oommiitae  that  the  wonM  take  the  mattet  into 
oareful  ooiiiideration»  if  they  would  reaome  their 
dutiee  in  the  oonTent,  and,  aa  soon  aa  they  had  left 
her  room,  pxiTately  deapatched  a  menenger  for  that 
diffnitaijr,  requeetiiig  hia  preaenoe  at  the  ooovent, 
wuh  aa  Uttle  delay  as  possihle. 

By  aome  means,  it  Docame  known  to  the  nans. 
ahortly  after  hia  departure,  that  a  messenger  had 
been  aent  to  the  eity ;  and,  enraged  at  the  duplicity 
of  the  Mother  Superior,  their  revolt  assumed,  n  poi- 
aible,  a  more  serious  oharaoter  than  eyer ;  and.  when 
the  nther  Qeneral  arrived,  it  was  raging  at  its  veiy 
height 

By  dint,  howeyer,  of  persuading  some  into  a  good 
hnmour,  flogsing  others  who  were  more  resolute  and 
obstinate,  and  reforming  some  of  the  abuses  of  which 
oomplsJnt  had  been  made,  the  General  succeeded  in 
restoring  subordination  and  quiet  among  the  rehel* 
lioua  nuns,  who,  aooustomed  as  they  were  to  blind 
and  implicit  obedience  to  their  superiors,  must  have 
had  serious  grounds  for  complaint  before  they  would 
have  Tentured  to  take  a  step  of  so  grave  a  character 
aa  open  reyolution.  But,  during  the  time  that  he 
had  spent  at  the  convent,  he  had  heard  enough  to 
aatisfy  his  mind  that  the  temper  of  the  Mother  Sa- 
p<wior  waa  becoming  entirely  too  impetuous  and  an- 
oertain  to  have  the  charge  of  so  important  a  position 
aa  tiiat  which  she  occupied.  Tet,  such  was  her  ac- 
quaintance with  hia  own  past  history— such,  too,  the 
estimation  in  which  she  was  held  at  Borne,  as  a  wo« 
man  ci  extraordinary  talenta,  and  one  to  whom  the 
order  waa  sreatly  indebted  for  her  services  in  pro- 
moting theur  interests  in  the  United  States;  and 
aneh»  alao,  her  powers  aa  an  intrigante,  that  he  dared 
not  remove  her,  without  some  act,  on  herpart,  which 
ahonld  be  of  so  flagrant  a  character,  and  capahle  d 
BO  dear  and  dedded  proof,  aa  to  admit  of  no  possi- 
ble eyaalon  ol  ita  reaulta;  and  thia  he  could  hardly 
suatie^iale  aa  poaaibla. 


ITfSTBBXSS  OV  4  OOUVMIIV* 


1S5 


In  ibis  ttato  of  mind,  he  returned  to  hit  reddenoe 
in  the  dty,  end,  it  may  well  be  tuppoaed,  in  no  mood 
to  meet  the  sturtUoff  intelligenee  tnat  awaited  him. 
Qifiog  his  horse  to  uie  groom  at  the  door,  he  enter- 
•dthe  hall:  hastily  nnloeking  a  small  boz,whieh 
was  plaoed  there  for  the  purpose  of  reoeiTing  what- 
oTsr  doouments  might  be  intended  for  him,  in  his 
itbsence  from  home,  he  took  out  of  it  several  letters 
and  notes,  and  hastened  to  his  cabinet.  Here,  throw- 
ing these  upon  the  table,  and  helping  himself  to  some 
line  old  Franoh  brandy,  which  he  kept  in  a  liquor- 
case,  he  sat  himself  down  to  their  perusal ;  for,  e1e« 
fated  in  dignity  as  was  the  offloe  which  he  held,  it 
was  no  sinecure ;  and,  whether  at  hom«  or  abroad, 
his  lot  waste  labour,  labour,  labour  Incessantly, 
•aye  when  at  his  meals,  or  during  the  fire  hours' 
eleep,  whidh  was  all  the  time  he  could  allow  eyen  to 
this  necessary  purpose,  and  from  which  he  was 
aroused  every  morning  by  an  alarum  dock,  plaoed 
upon  the  mantel-piece  in  his  chamber,  and  fixed  at 
the  early  hour  of  four  o'dock,  winter  and  summer; 
he  knew  not  what  rest  was.  How  great  the  pity 
that  his  truly  splendid  talents  and  indefatigable  in- 
dustry had  not  heen  applied  to  a  more  yaluable  and 
laudablepurpose  than  in  promoting  the  machina- 
tions of  Jesmtism ! 

Having  read  several  letters  before  him,  he  took 
up  one  of  the  notes,  which  read  as  follows ; 

*'  New  Tcrk^  Thundayj  9  (/dock. 
**  Most  BsvBBSin)  Sm— 

''Ihave  just  called  to  inform  you  that  a  Mr. 
Ptentiss,  from  Louisiana,  is  now  converdng,  at  my 
house,  with  Miss  Emilie  de  Yere,  in  reference  to  h«r 
lathers  estate :  and,  finding  you  from  home,  your 
servant  not  being  able  to  tell  me  where,  I  write  this 
note  to  let  you  uow  about  it  I  will  call  again  at 
tlrdveo'dook.    <<  Your  very  humble  servant, 

Putting  this  Sown,  he  took  up  cj^^otheri  wImnmi 


1S« 


WKTKBXES  OF  ▲  OOVTCKT. 


dreMwat  in  the  same  band-writiug,  ai>d  whiobread 
thus : 

*'  Thursday  f  12  o*clock. 

'*  Most  Bbvsbbnd  Fatbbb— 

<*I  hare  called  again,  acoordinor  to  my  promise, 
bnt  still  find  you  absent.  Mr.  Prentiss  and  Miss 
JSmilie  had  a  lonpr  interview,  this  morninfif;  but 
what  was  the  result  of  it  I  know  not,  as  I  bad  no 
opportunity  of  listening,  and  I  cannot  make  much  of 
her  looks :  though  I  can  see  a  manifest  change  in 
themi  and  suppose  their  conversation  must  bave 
been  of  an  agreeable  character  to  her.  I  will  call 
again,  this  af  temoon,  *'  Tour  devoted  servant, 

"  Wm.  Wilmot." 

A  third  note  remained  upon  the  table,  whose  con- 
tents were  as  follows: 

•*  Friday  Morning^  8  o^dock, 

«  Most  BsvEBEND  Fatpeb  Gemebal,  &c,— 
**  Beverend  and  Dear  Sir~I  know  not  what  to  say, 
or  what  to  do.  I  know  that  you  will  be  angry  with 
me ;  but  I  assure  you,  most  solemnly,  that  I  am  in 
no  wise  to  blame.  O,  that  you  were  at  home !  But 
I  must  tell  you,  at  once,  that  EmiUe  de  Yere  has  left 
my  house,  and  gone,  I  know  not  where.  As  she  did 
not  come  down  to  breakfast,  this  morning,  at  the 
usual  hour,  we  sent  up  to  the  room,  and  were  aston- 
ished to  learn  that  she  had  not  spent  the  night  at 
home ;  at  least,  there  was  no  appearance  of  the  bed 
having  been  used,  which  she  commonly  occupies. 
Her  trunk  is  in  her  room,  unopened  as  yet,  and 
everything  is  in  order ;  while  not  the  least  trace  can 
he  found  of  where  she  may  be.  If  I  knew  where 
yon  were,  I  should  immediately  despatch  a  messen- 
ger for  you ;  but,  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  spare  no 
pains  to  find  her,  if  she  is  in  the  city.  When  I  called 
at  your  residence,  I  asked,  in  ^our  absence,  for  your 
private  secretary;  but  was  informed  that  he  was 
not  at  home,  and  had  not  been  since  last  nigbt. 
Wbalher  Ida  absence  baa  anything  to  do  with  that 


mrcfTEBiBs  OF  JL  QOTsnrmr. 


137 


m 


of  the  missing  girl,  I  cannot  tell.  Of  one  thing  lam 
sure,  however,  that  neither  myself  or  family  gave 
Miss  Emilie  any  cause  of  dissatisfaction ;  and  this 
only  makes  the  whole  affair  the  more  mysterious. 

**  Awaiting  your  orders,  I  remain,  with  the  great- 
est  respect,       '*  Tour  faithful  servant, 

"  Wm.  WmiOT.'* 

The  Father  General  had  read  this  last  note  with 
profound  astonishment,  increasing  at  every  fresh 
une,  until,  almost  beside  himself  with  anxiety  and 
rage,  he  was  about  to  seize  his  bat,  and  hasten  to 
see  Mr.  Wilmot,  when  his  eye  rested,  for  an  instant, 
upon  another  note^  lying  upon  the  table,  in  the  su- 
perscription of  which  he  immediateljr  recognised  the 
hand-writing  of  the  secretary.  Seizing  this,  and 
tearing  it  open,  with  an  earnestness  which  indicated 
the  feverish  excitement  of  his  soul,  he  read  the  fol- 
lowing astoundinpf  intelligence : 

''New  York,  Thursday  Mght,  11  o'doek. 

«To  the  Father  General  of  the  order  of  Jesuits  in 
the  United  States. 

^BsvEBEND  Sm, 

**  Before  this  letter  will  have  reached  vou,  the 
writer  will  have  been  placed  at  a  distance  firom  the 
city,  which  will  effectually  prevent  the  possibility 
of  his  being  overtaken  by  jou.  Where  he  is  gone 
to,  or  what  his  business,  will  perhaps  but  little  in- 
terest you,  when  he  informs  vou  that  he  has  for 
ever  renounced  Bomanism,  ana  embraced  the  cause 
of  Protestant  Christianity.  Your  past  kindness  to 
me  would  not  permit  me  to  leave  vou,  without  bid- 
ding you  farewell,  and  expressing  for  you,  personal- 
Ijr,  my  warm  wishes  for  your  future  health  and  hap- 
piness. 

In  the  first  drawer  of  the  table  in  the  library,  you 
will  find  the  instrument  of  my  conversion  to  lArotes- 
tantism ;  and  the  best  pledge  I  could  give  yon  of 
my  sincerity  in  wishing  you  well,  is  the  request  that 
you  will  read  that  blessed  Toiumei  as  I  have  dooOi 

224  V 


m 


XTSTBBZB8  Of  A,  OOKTSMT* 


until  you  **  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall 
vuiJCe  yott  free,'' as  it  has  me. 

•'Very  respectfully  yours, 

"  PiBTBO  DI  IjODBTTI.'' 

It  would  be  impossible  to  portray,  iu  language, 
the  state  of  ezcitemeut  into  which  the  Father  Gen- 
etal  was  thrown  by  the  perusal  of  this  note.  There 
he  stoodi  pale  with  rage,—his  eyes  flashing  fire,  his 
teeth  close  set  together ;  while  the  breath  came  thick 
and  fast,  hissing  through  his  expanded  nostrils. 
Presently,  dashing  the  note  to  the  floor,  he  stamped 
upon  i1^  as  though  it  had  been  the  cause  of  his  wrath, 
instead  <^  being  the  mere  Tehide  through  which  the 
enraging  information  had  reached  him. 

^  Purgatory  and  perdition !"  at  length  exclaimed 
<Im  infuriated  Jesuit ;  <<  What  is  all  this  P  Is  the 
whidel^erdof  infernal  spirits  let  loose  upon  meP 
What  next,  I  wonder  P  This  nun,  that  I  have 
brought  all  the  way  from  Canada,  in  order  to  play 
BO  important  a  part  in  the  great  game  for  a  fortune 
lor  our  treasury ;— she,  too,  I  suppose,  will  be  found 
to  haye  embraced  thatreli^on  of  fools^-Protestant- 
ism-— and  to  haye  eloped  with  this  pious  secretary  of 
mine,  who,  instead  of  attending  to  my  business,  has 
1)9^1  tetAing  the  Bible  I  St.  Ignatius  grant  me  pa- 
tience! The  Tile  hypocrite  seduces  the  nun  from  her 
sJlegiance  to  Heayen  and  to  the  Church—runs  off 
with  her--and  then,  with  frozen  impudence,  grates 
to  me  of '  the  instrument  of  his  conyersion  to  Frotes- 
tantism !'— -Conyersion  to  infamy,  he  should  have 
said :— and  tells  me— aye !  tells  the  supreme  head  of 
the  Jesuits  in  America  I— to  *  read  thcU  blessed  vo- 
lume T— Curses  upon  it,  and  upon  tho  brazen-faced 
knave! — ^'ashe  has  done,  until  I  shall  know  the 
tnUh* — which  his  infamous  conduct  has  proved  to 
be  falsehood—*  and  the  truth  shall  make  me  free,  as 
it  has  him  /—yes,  he  means,  shall  make  me  as  great 
a  sooundrel  as  himself .  Holy  Virgin!  how  can  I 
bear  suob  insolenoe  at  this  P-*Bat  why  stand  I  hei* 


IITSTBBISS  OV  A  OONVSZW* 


199 


bheirutb  shall 

iu  language, 
ie  Father  Gen- 
lis  note.  There 
LaBhing  fire,  his 
dath  came  thick 
anded  nostrils. 
>or,  be  stamped 

iBeoibw^'^^*^» 
rough  which  the 

engtb  exclaimed 
aithisP  Is  the 
loose  upon  mer 
m,  that  I  have 
in  order  to  play 
^e  for  a  fortune 
>8e,  will  be  found 
)ols— Protestant- 

Sious  secretary  oi 
my  business,  has 
ius  grant  me  pa- 
tbe  nun  from  her 
Church— ruus  off 
mpudence,t)rate8 
Lrersion  to  Protes- 
,.  he  should  have 
'  supreme  head  ol 
e/iat  BLESSED  yo- 
tho  brasen-facea 
shall  know  the 

tct  has  prf  «*ri 
make  m  tm^ 
lake  measgreaj 

irgiu  I  i^of  ,^i; 
why  stand  I  he»* 


flms,  when  every  moment  is  preoious—wiiea  they 

already  have  four  days  start  of  me  F      I  will  away, 

and  take  instant  meaeures  for  their  apprehension 

and  return  to  New  York ;  if,  indeed,  this  is  not  all 

pretence  about  their  having  gone  from  the^  city* 

Who  knows  but  they  are  now  skulking  in  some  vile 

hole'  in  this  very  place ;  while  this  precious  villain 

seeks  to  cover  their  retreat  by  throwing  me  upon  the 

wrong  scent  P      I  will  put  my  blood-hounds  upon 

their  track,  be  the^  where  they  may ;  and  it  shall 

not  be  my  fault  if  they  are  undiscovered  within 

twenty-four  hours,  if  they  have  not  left  the  city.  If 

they  have,  I  swear,  by  all  the  Saints  in  Heaven,  to 

pursue  them^to  the  death.  Ah  !  they  little  know  my 

power,  if  they  imagine  that  they  can  find  a  hidine* 

place  from  my  fury,  in  any  spot  on  this  men  oara; 

Thanks  to  the  Patron  Saint  of  our  order^  Ir^  are 

spread  all  over  the  wide  world ;  and  our  agenti  aio 

everywhere.     Let  me  but  get  them  onoe  in  my 

power,  and  they  shall  realize  the  fearfidkiess  oimj 

wrath,  which  they  have  so  boldly  pxovokedi  and  set 

at  defiance.** 

So  saying^  the  enraged  priest  descended  to  th« 
street,  and,  m  a  few  minutes,  was  at  the  dwelling  of 
Mr.  Wilmot,  and  seated  in  his  parlouTi  waiting  bis 
return  from  some  business  errand. 


OHAFTEB  XXVI. 

Uls  fugitives  arrive  at  Baltimore— Reside  with  ICr.  Baniiim 
—A  private  wedding— Proceed  in  a  vessel  for  New  Of^ 
leans— Pleasures  of  a  sea  voyage— Alarm  at  the  appeav* 
ance  of  a  supposed  pirate— PrepaciAon  for  aoUon— . 
Groundless  alarm— Arriyal  at  New  Jrleans— Piety  and 
prosperity  of  Pietro  and  Alice. 

Meanwhilb,  Mr.  Prentiss  had  reached  Baltimore^ 
with  his  companions,  Pietro  and  Alice,  and  p*Ut  upy 
for>  day  or  two,  at  the  Indian  Qaeen,  then  the  b0si 
hotel  in  the  place,  and  kept  by  thatjprince  of  land- 
ioidf,  since  gona  to  his  long  rest,  old  David  Barnuni. 


il» 


ItrnlTBBIES  OV  A  OOAVJBMT. 


Being  an  old  friend  of  Mr.  PrenUss,  the  latter  toon 
took  an  opportunity  of  mentioning  to  him,  in  con« 
fidenee,  tnat  Pietro  and  Alice  were  two  joune:  friends 
of  his,  who  had  run  away  for  the  purpose  of  getting 
jnarried ;  that  he  would  much  ohhge  them  hy  hring- 
ing  to  the  hotel  some  minister,  to  marry  them  at  six 
o*clook  that  evening ;  hut  that  it  must  he  done  in 
the  most  private  possihie  manner,  without  letting 
any  of  the  inmates  of  the  family  know  anything 
about  it,  Mr.  Barnum  promised  secrecy ;  made  all 
the  necessary  arrangements;  and,  at  the  appointed 
bour^  the  two  fugitive  lovers  were  united  in  holy 
matnmony,  in  a  private  parlour  of  the  tavern,  hy 
the  Bev.  fir.  Inglis,  then  pastor  of  the  First  Presby- 
terian church  in  the  cit^ ;  no  other  witnesses  being 
ptesent,  save  Mr.  Prentiss  and  Mr.  Barnum. 

The  next  day,  it  was  thought  advisable  for  the 
newly  •married  couple  to  remain  ae  much  in-doors  as 
posable,  and  even  for  them  to  take  their  meals  in 
uieir  own  room,  to  avoid  all  possibility  of  encounter- 
ing any  one  who  might  be  on  the  look-out  for  them ; 
whilst  Mr*  F^ntiss  made  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  their  departure  in  a  fine  ship  of  some 
three  bundred  tons,  which  was  to  leave  for  New  Or- 
leans, on  the  following  day. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  next  morning,  the  anchor  bad 
been  weighed,  the  sails  unfurled,  the  passengers  all 
on  board,  when  the  signal  was  given,  the  canvass 
fined  with  the  freshening  breeze,  and  bidding  Mr. 
Baimnm  farewell,  our  little  party,  in  high  spirits, 
and  hopeful  of  the  future,  were  borne  away  from 
the  wharf  at  Fell's  Poitit,  by  the  noble  vessel  on 
whoie  deck  they  stood.  Passing  Fort  McHenrj,  they, 
after  a  while,  emerged  into  the  beautiful  waters  of 
the  Obesapeake,  and,  with  a  smacking  breeze,  soon 
passed  Annapolis,  and  reached  the  Gapes,  in  twenty- 
fonr  honrs  after  leaving  Baltimore.  Here,  the  pilot 
baving  been  discharged,  the  ship  passed  out  into  the 
waters  of  the  oceaoi  and  soon  lost  sight  of  laud. 


,  1 


ICYBTEIIXCS  07  ▲  COKTBXn. 


141 


10  laUenoon 
I  him,  incon- 
^younetfrieuds 
K)8e  of  getting 
hem  by  bring- 
ry  them  at  biz 
list  be  done  in 
without  letting 
Lnow  anything 
recy ;  made  all 
the  appointed 
united  in  holy 
the  tavern,  by 
e  First  Presby- 
witnesses  being 
Barnum. 
Ivisable  for  the 
nuch  in-doors  as 
i  their  meals  in 
ityolenoounter- 
tk-ottt  for  them; 
essary  arrange- 
16  ship  of  some 
^▼e  for  New  Or- 

the  anchor  had 
be  passengers  all 
ten,  the  canvass 
ind  bidding  Mr. 
y,  in  high  spinU, 
orne  away  from 
noble  vessel  on 
tMcHenry,they, 
autiful  waters  of 
king  breeze,  soon 
Capes,  in  twenty. 
fc.    ikere,  the  pilot 
assed  out  into  tue 
sight  of  laud, 


There  was  nothing  novel  to  Pietro  in  a  leaToyage, 
but  to  Alice  it  was  a  source  of  wonder  and  deugnt. 
The  wide  expanse  of  water — the  upheaving  waves— 
the  blue  sky  reflected  in  the  great  mirror  beneath, 
where  the  ever  changing  surface  broke  in  ceaseless 
beauty — the  finny  monsters  disporting  in  the  briny 
fluid— the  novel  characters  around  her,  found  in  the 
weather-beaten  seaman,— the  young  sailor  who  was 
making  his  flrst  voyage,— the  bluff  mate,  and  the  ty- 
rannical little  captain,  as  he  strode  the  deck,  monarch 
of  the  kingdom,  his  ship  over  which  he  reigned  with 
an  iron  nUe— tne  strange  sounds  which  constant^ 
fell  upon  her  ear — these  all  afforded  her  food  for  plea* 
surable  excitement,  when,  indeed,  she  was  well 
enough  to  be  on  deck ;  for,  although  she  had  escaped 
sea-sickness,  to  a  considerable  extent,  yet  she  suffer* 
ed  a  good  deal,  at  times,  from  nausea,  which  com* 
pelled  her  to  lie  down  in  her  berth,  for  hours. 

They  had  already  passed  those  points  so  formida* 
ble  to  seamen,  Bermuda  and  Gape  Hatteras,  and  were 
off  Bahama,  already  rounding  into  the  Gulf  of  Men* 
CO,  between  Ouba  and  the  Florida  Beefs,  when,  one 
morning,  at  day  •break,  the  look-out  from  the  mast* 
head  cried, ''sail— ho!"  Instantly  the  cry  was  re* 
sponded  to  on  deck ;  and  the  captain,  whose  momiuflf 
watch  it  was,  having  sent  for  his  spy-glass,  swept 
the  horizon  with  it,  until  at  last  he  discovered  the  two 
topmasts  of  a  rakish  vessel,  peering  just  above  the 
sea,  while  the  hull,  as  yet,  seemed  buned  beneath  its 
waves.  When  first  seen,  the  stranger  was  striding 
athwart  the  ship,  and  crossing  her  path  in  the  rear ; 
but,  as  soon  as  the  latter  was  discovered  by  the  for* 
mer,  she  changed  her  course,  and,  bracing  sharply  up 
in  the  wind,  followed  directljr  in  the  wake  of  the 
ship,  with  the  manifest  intention  of  overhauling  or 
overtaking  her.  As  soon  as  this  manoeuvre  jwas  per- 
ceived by  the  captain,  he  instantly  ordered  uie  (^na, 
of  which  he  had  several,  to  be  cleared  for  action— > 
the  large  brass  swivel,  which  stood  amid-ships,  to  be 
loaded  with  grape-shoti  and  those  at  the  sides  with 


•C^' 


iii 


iCTBTBBnES  OV  ▲  OOWZNT. 


diain-sliot;  the  swords  and  small  anns  to  begot 
ready,  as  well  as  the  boardiog  pikes,  and,  in  short, 
all  hands  to  be  called,  and  eveiy  preparation  mads 
lor  defence.  While  this  was.being  done,  Mr.  Pren- 
tiss, who  had  heard  the  uproar,  came  on  deck,  fol- 
lowed, in  a  few  moments,  by  Pietro,  who  had  also 
been  awakened  by  the  unusual  trampinsf  of  the  men 
overhead.  The  former  immediately  offered  his  ser- 
vices to  the  captain,'  in  any  way  that  he  misrht  be 
usef  al ;  while  the  latter,  doing  tne  same,  hastily  re- 
lumed to  the  cabin,  to  acquaint  Alice  with  what  was 
eping  on,  and  to  see  that  her  safety  was  provided  for, 
in  the  event  of  an  action.  Having  arranged  it  so 
that  she  could  retire  into  the  hold,  beneath  the  water 
Uhe^  the  ship  not  being  fully  laden,  whenever  the  pre- 
sence of  danger  should  make  it  necessary,  and  having; 
soothed  her  fears  as  much  as  possible,  he  belted  upon 
his  body  a  pair  of  large  pistols  with  which  he  had 
provided  himself  before  leaving  Baltimore,  and  went 
upon  the  deck. 

He  found  that  the  stranger  was  gaining  rapidly 
upon  them ;  for,  while  the  direction  1mm  which  the 
wind  blew  was  unfavourable  for  the  rapid  pro^o'ess  r.f 
the  ship  throusrh  the  water,  it  was  the  very  one  tnoFt 
■nitable  to  the  greatest  speed  of  the  dipper  bri?  w  hicU 
was  coming  upon  thero  with  giant  strides.  Her  top- 
masts had  first  been  seen,  then  her  topsnils,  then  her 
lower  sails,  and  then  her  hull,  rising  black  and  threa- 
tening, as  it  were  from  the  bosom  of  the  ocean— her 
masts  having  that  peculiar  rakish  appearance,  for 
which  this  class  of  vessels-  ^  dipper  buHt  bri^s  of 
Baltimore— is  so  remarkable.  Now  sle  was  within 
eiffht  or  ten  miles,  '*  walking  the  water,  liko  a  thini; 
of  life  j*'  while  the  ship  seemed  to  creep  at  a  snail's 
pace.  Un  she  came;  her  sides  bristling  with  cannon ; 
her  deck  filled  with  dark-looking  men,  armed  to  the 
teeth,  Wl^h  cutlasses  and  pistols  stuck  in  their  belts. 

**  A  p.:  sic !— a  pirate  !*'  passed  from  lip  to  lip  of  the 
stahrart  cfew  on  board  the  ship;  while  not  a  cheek 


p. 

rmt  to  be  ^t 
and,  in  ghort, 
oration  mad« 
ne,  Mr.  Pren- 
i  on  deck,  foU 
who  had  also 
!ncf  of  themen 
ffered  bis  ser- 
,t  ho  mipht  be 
no,  hastiiy  re« 
with  what  was 
,8  provided  for, 
irran^ed  it  so 
leath  the  water 
mover  the  pre- 
ry,  and  bavin;; 
he  belted  upon 
which  be  had 
nore,  and  went 

raininpr  rapidly 
rom  which  the 
pid  prof?re89  of 
I  very  one  most 
per  briET  which 
les.  Her  top- 
)8nil8,  then  her 
lack  and  threa- 
the  ocean— her 
ppearance,  for 
rbuHt  briars  of 
Blie  was  within 
er,  like  a  tbincr 
eep  at  a  snail's 
U  with  cannon; 
1,  armed  to  the 
I  in  their  belts. 
lip  to  lip  of  the 
iUe  not  a  cheek 


IIT0XSBIXS  QF  ▲  coarvsKT. 


lis 


bUmobed,  nor  a  nerve  quivered,  as,  elaiiding  in 
aqnade  by  their  flpinfl,  the  men  looked  each  other  la 
the  eye,  and  felt  tbat'the^  conldtmit  eadb  other, 
and  make  a  good  defence,  m  the  hour  of  need. 

**  A  pirate  ;*'  said  liCr.  Prentiss  to  Pietro,  while  the 
lip  of  the  latter  quivered,  and  the  moisture  was  In 
his  eye,  as  he  thought  of  Alice. 

**  A  pirate !"  said  the  Captain,  in  low  tones,  to  the 
crew,  while  his  small  frame  seemed  to  expand  and 
grow  larger,  as,  with  fire-flashing  eye  and  flashed 
cheek,  he  looked  proudly  upon  them,  as  brave- ^ 
fenders  of  his  gallant  ship,  and  added,  ^  boys— let 
each  one  be  true  as  steel.  Hold  yoorfire  until  I  give 
the  order;  and  we  will  blow  him  out  of  the  water/' 

<*  Aye,  that  we  will,  sir,"  re{>lied  a  score  of  voices, 
in  tones  which  manifested  their  confidence  in  their 
commander  and  in  each  other. 

**irp  with  the  ensign,"  cried  the  captain— '^et  us 
see  what  colours  he  shows." 

Up  went  the  stars  and  stripes,  floating  languidly 
in  the  breeze,  from  the  spanker  gaff.  This  was  im« 
mediately  followed  by  the  exhibition  of  the  same  flag 
from  the  stranger. 

"What  does  thatmeanP**  asked  the  captain,  of 
the  mate. 

<*I  do  not  know,  sir,  unless  it  be  to  deceive  ui. 
We  had  better  keep  a  good  look  out.  or  we  shall  have 
a  how-chaser  speaking  to  us,  in  a  few  minutes.'' 

"  See,"  said  the  captain, "  there  it  comes  even  now;** 

And,  while  he  spake,  tiiere  was  a  cloud  of  smol^ 
a  flash,  a  report ;  and  a  shot  from  one  of  the  Ix^w 
(iruDS  careered  harmlessly  past  the  ship,  and  sank  hli« 
siog  into  tiie  water  jnst  ahead  of  the  good  vessel. 

"I  do  not  know  what  he  means !"  remarked 'tiiA 
captain,  ^  unless  he  wishes  us  to  heave  to ;  and  ttMit 
I  do  not  mean  to  do,  unless  he  comes  abreast  of  us.'* 

On  came  the  brig— she  was  now  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  ship ;  andj  i£ooting  ahead,  wheeled  round  her 
bows,  ana,  brelhng  up  the  Jow^  sails,  floated  broad- 
side to  the  ship,  distant  one  or  two  hundred  feet* 


144 


IClOHfiBIXS  OV  ▲  C(MIVUI9« 


**  Wbat  ihip  !•  tbat  P"  cried  tbeoaptain  of  tbebrifir* 

''The  ship  Mercury,  of  Baltimore^iiine  dayt  out| 
bound  for  New  Orleans.    What  brig  is  tbat  P^' 

^  Tbe  privateer  Hero,  of  Baltimore,  cruiting  on  the 
coatt  for  tbe  enemy*  Hare  you  seen  anything  of 
bim  P"  was  the  response  of  tbe  clipper  captain. 

'*  Nothing !"  answered  tbe  commander  of  the  Mer- 
cory ;  and,  with  a  hearty  cheer  from  his  crew,  repli- 
ed toby  three  times  three  from  that  of  the  bri^,  both 
Tessels  filed  away,  each  pursuing  her  own  track,  and 
were  soon  out  of  sight  ox  each  other. 

Tbe  guns  on  board  the  ship  were  again  covered— 
tbe  arms  and  ammunition  put  away,  while  the  cap- 
tain invited  his  passengers  to  breakfast,  and,  drawing 
forth  a  bottle  of  fine  old  wine,  offered  as  a  toast— 
''Success to  tbe  privateer!'*  which  all  drank  with 
enthusiasm. 

In  due  time  our  travellers  arrived  at  New  Orleans, 
where  Mr.  Prentiss  procured  horses  for  the  three, 
there  being  no  better  means  of  conveyance,  at  that 
earlv  day ;  and,  in  tbe  course  of  a  week,  Pietro  and 
his  lovely  wife  were  domesticated  in  the  hospitable 
dwelling  of  their  kind  host  and  bis  most  amiable 
oompanion,  who,  being  apprised,  by  her  husband,  of 
the  interesting  history  of  their  guests,  had  ^'ven 
them  tbat  hearty  welcome  for  which  the  South  has 
Always  been  so  proverbial. . 

Here  Alice  soon  made  herself  useful  and  beloved, 
as  well  as  remarkable  for  her  simple  and  consistent 

gety  as  a  Protestant  Christian,  while  Pietro,  bending 
le  energies  of  bis  powerful  intellect  to  the  study  of 
the  law,  soon  mastered  its  intricacies,  and  was  admit- 
ted to  practice  as  a  partner  of  his  patron,  Mr.  Pren- 
tiSB.  In  tbe  course  of  ten  years,  Fietro  had  become 
Mieof  tbe  most  prominent  lawyers  in  all  that  region 
of^oountry,  and  was  elected  to  Congress,  where  he 
•lood  bigb  as  an  intellijB^ent,  honest,  and  eloquent 
statesman^  and  was  distmguised  for  his  high-toned 
(l4Uotism«     He  ae^umulated  -property,  as  well  as 


mrasEBnu  o*  a  oomnre. 


IM 


'•V 


gatbered  great  honours  in  the  practice  of  his  profes- 
giou;  and|  when  he  died,  left  an  ample  fortune  to  bis 
two  children,  tbe  youui;  Pietro  and  Alice,  who  were 
worthy  sdons  of  a  noble  stock. 

Mr.  Prentiss  never  regretted  the  trip  that  he  had 
made  to  the  North,  in  pursuit  of  his  ward,  Emilie  de 
Yere,  nor  his  interview  with  Alice  Soule,  which  had 
resulted  so  mysteriouslv  in  tbe  rescue  of  a  most  in* 
teresting  couple  from  the  bauds  of  a  cruel  and  blood«i 
thirsty  persecution,  which  would  have  been  tbe  sure 
result,  had  this  singular  interposition  of  Divine  Pro^ 
videuce  not  been  made  in  their  favour — and  it  was  to 
him  a  source  of  high  gratification  to  relate  the  par* 
ticulars  of  their  history  to  bis  friends,  whenever  oc- 
casion served,  and  to  leave  them  recorded  among  his 
papers,  as  a  reminiscence  of  events  which  had  occur* 
red  in  his  own  history  in  a  diary  of  bis  life,  which 
he  made  for  the  use  of  his  children. 

CHAPTER  XXVn. 

The  Father  General's  interview  with  Mr.  Wilmot^An  an- 
gry dispntation'-Oriinination  and  re-crimination->The 
arch-plotter  vows  vengeance  against  his  tool— Proceeds 
to  put  his  threat  in  execution—Interview  with  Mr. 
Eetchum— The  Father  General*  a  orders  to  him— -Scouts 
sent  in  all  directions,  in  search  of  the  fugitives— All 
search  in  vain — Mr.  wilmot  and  his  family  mined,  and 
turned  out  In  the  streets — Tidings  of  the  lost  fugitives, 
from  Father  Beaupres. 

Wb  left  the  Father  General  seated  in  the  parlour  of 
Mr.  Wilmot,  awaiting  bis  return  from  some  business 
errand  in  town,  and  will  now  look  in  upon  tbe  inter* 
view  which  occurred  between  these  two  worthies.     ". 

When  Mr.  Wilmot  returned  from  down  town,  at 
he  called  it,  he  found  the  Father  General  in  no  ami* 
able  mood ;  and,  no  sooner  bad  he  opened  the  door 
of  the  room  in  which  tbe  latter  was  seated,  than  the 
(General  began  a  tirade  of  abuse,  which  was  of  the 
fiercest  character.  He  upbraided  him,  in  tbe  ooars* 
estlangaage,  for  oonuivauce  at  the  escape  of  the  um. 


146 


mmniBS  ov  ▲  ocnmnni* 


and  told  him,  to  his  faoe,  that  he  WMa  liaraud  a 
tooundiel.  Mr.  Wilmot,  although  a  Oatholio,  and 
a  pliant  tool  iu  the  hauda  of  the  Jesnite,  haTiug  ao- 
compliahed  for  them  maoy  a  dirty  pieee  of  intrigue, 
was  jet  a  man  of  some  iade|)enaeuoe  of  feeliug,  as 
weUaa  of  verv  strong  and  irritable  temper,  and 
oould  not  whoUy  repress  the  risings  of  resentment  at 
the  unreasonable  oouduct  of  the  Qeneral.  who,  borne 
away  by  disappointment  at  the  flight  of  Pietro  and 
▲lioe,  would  listen  to  no  excuse  upon  the  part  of  Mr. 
Wilmot,  but  sought  to  wreak  his  Teugeauoe  upon  the 
latter,  whom  he  persisted  in  oousidering  as  an  ac- 
oompliee.  This  the  latter  resented,  and,  forgetting 
himself,  indulged  in  some  imprudent  retorts,  which 
but  incensed  the  priest  the  more;  until  both  were 
excited  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  fiercely  hurled  at 
each  other  epithets  which  could  have  oulv  come  frotn 
the  lowea^  and  most  degraded  convicts  of  our  prisons 
and  penifientiaries.  At  length,  the  General,  full  ol 
malice,  and  convinced  in  his  own  mind,  that  it  was 
wholly  impossible  that  the  escape  of  Alice  should 
have  been  without  the  connivance  of  Mr.  Wilmot, 
said  to  him: 

^  You  shall  smart  for  this,  you  scoundrel.  Ton 
!jave,  for  purposes  of  your  own,  and  disregard! ul  of 
the  interests  of  the  church,  dared  to  brave  my  anger, 
and  aid  this  girl  in  her  escape,  or  at  least  connived 
at  it,  to  the  great  detriment  of  those  interests—'tis 
well  I  you  shall  feel  the  weight  of  my  auj^er  before 
forty-eight  hours  have  rolled  over  your  head.  Mark 
well  what  I  say.  William  Wilmot,  your  doom  is 
sealed!" 

So  saying,  the  General  left  the  i>arlour,  slamming 
to  the  door  with  violence  behind  him,  and,  with  his 
countenance  flushed  with  anger,  went  forth  into  the 
street,  and  sought,  with  hurried  steps,  his  own 
dwelling. 

Having  arrived  at  home,  and  ascended  to  his  oa- 
bioeti  he  drew  iron  the  iron  safe  a  iar^e  red  pocket- 


wtDniBi  ow  ▲  cofsmar 


147 


|K)ok,  luid  MoCyig  it,  took  out  «  «»all  ptokot  ol 
notes  of  haua  fer  T^trioat  amountoy  and  romt^itti^ 
three,  to  whi^h  was  affixed  the  name  ol  William  Wil« 
mot,  all  ol  tbam  dalnd  eon.  time  ^^ck,  d^te  one  day 
after  date*  and  amounting  togeU^  «f  to  six  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  ;wo  do'J^,  with  interest 
from  their  date ;  and,  hasiiij  penning  a  note,  rang 
tiie  bell  to  summon  a  servant.  On  the  appearance 
of  the  latter,  he  handed  him  the  note,  and  bade  him 
take  it  to  Mr.  Ketchum,  the  lawyer,  and  bring  bwM)k 
an  immediate  answer. 

lu  about  twenty  minutes,  the  servant  returned, 
aud  iuformed  his  master  that  Mr.  Ketch um  awaited 
his  pleasure,  in  the  drawing-room  below. 

**6how  him  up,"  was  the  response  of  the  Father 
(general,  who  was  deepljr  engaged  in  the  examina- 
tion of  some  papers  which  were  lying  upon  the  ta« 
ble  before  him. 

Mr.  Ketchum,  meanwhile,  was  introduced  into 
the  cabinet,  within  whose  walls  he  was,  by  the  way, 
quite  intimate,  having  frequently  visited  them  be- 
fore ;  aud  being  seated,  the  General  proceeded  to  tdl 
him,  as  much  as  he  deemed  necessary  of  the  arrival 
aiid  subsequent  flight  of  the  nun,  requesting  Mr. 
Ketchum  to  take  immediate  steps  for  the  quiet 
search,  throughout  the  city,  for  the  fugitives ;  telU 
ing  him  that  he  would  give  him  one  thousand  doU 
lars,  if  successful,  and  pay  all  the  expenses  incurred. 
The  lawyer,  having  received  from  the  General  a 
written  description  of  the  jpersonal  appearance  of  the 
f a<;itives,  was  about  to  retire,  for  the  purpose  of  ^• 
stitutiug  search  after  them,  when  the  Father  detain* 
ed  him,  for  a  moment,  to  say  that  he  wished  him  to 
take  the  three  notes  which  he  handed  to  him,  pre- 
seut  them  for  immediate  payment,  and  if  not  paid 
at  sight,  to  bring  suit  upon  them,  and  get  the  money 
immediately. 

Theiaw^er,  who  wasa  nominal  member  of  the 
Baptist  church,  bc^  really  a  Jesuit  in  disguise,  bow- 


' 


148 


KnauEA  ow  ▲  oownr. 


•d  low,  tad,  promising  to  oomply  with  the  inttnio* 
tiont  of  the  Oeneral,  and  to  loie  no  time,  withdrew 
to  earry  them  into  effect  In  the  coarse  of  two  hourii 
not  less  than  thirty  men  were  exploriDg  the  citv,  in 
•Tory  direction,  in  pursuit  of  the  runaways,  and  in- 

?[uiritag  at  eTerjr  probable  or  possible  source  for  iu- 
ormation,  but  in  Tain ;  while  so  quietly  was  tins 
iuTestigation  made,  and  so  systemized,  as  to  the  dis- 
trict or  quarter  of  the  city  in  which  each  of  the 
agents  pushed  his  inquiries,  that  not  one  of  these 
thirty  agents  knew  anything  of  the  rest,  or  that  there 
were  others  besides  himself  engaged  in  the  pursuit. 
Meanwhile,  an  officer  appeared  at  the  store  of  Mr. 
Wilmot,  and,  taking  him  to  one  side,  presented  the 
three  notes  for  payment,  informing  him  that,  if  they 
were  not  paid  instantly,  suit  would  be  brought  upon 
them,  and  the  money  made,  without  regard  to  the 
eonsequences. 

Mr.  Wilmot  turned  deadly  pale,  and  told  the  offi- 
cer that  he  could  not  possibly,  at  so  short  notice, 
raise  snob  an  amount ;  but  that,  if  he  could  have 
four  or  fiye  days  in  which  to  do  it,  he  thought  he 
might  possibly  saye  himself  from  ruin,  by  procuring 
assistance  from  some  of  his  friends.  The  officer  in- 
formed him  that  his  orders  were  peremptory,  and  on 
his  being  told  that  Mr.  Wilmot  had  not  the  money, 
and  oouid  not  pay  the  notes,  he  seryed  a  writ  upon 
him,  and  took  the  legal  steps  necessary  to  secure  the 
property  iu  the  establishment  from  being  made  away 

In  ten  days  from  that  time,  the  store  of  Mr.  Wil- 
mot, with  all  its  contents  and  the  furniture  of  his 
dwelling,  were  sold  under  execution,  and  himself 
and  family  turned  into  the  streets,  beggared.  The 
Father  Q«neral  was  ayenged. 

No  efforts,  howeyer,  that  be  could  pat  forth,  by 
means  of  agents,  by  writing  letters  abroad,  or  other- 
wise, could  procure  any  tidmgs  of  the  fugitives,  until 
at  length  a  letter  came  from  the  Father  BeaupxeB| 


raw. 

with  the  inttrno- 
10  time,  withdrew 
one  of  two  hourii 
oring  the  citv,  in 
unaways,  and  in- 
ible  touroe  for  iu. 
quietly  was  this 

ized,  astothedis- 
ich  each  of  the 
not  one  of  these 

rest,  or  that  there 

>d  in  the  pursuit. 

,t  the  store  of  Mr. 

le,  presented  the 
him  that,  if  they 

be  brought  upon 

out  regard  to  the 

and  told  the  offi- 
so  short  notice, 
if  he  oould  have 
>  it,  he  thought  he 
'uin,  by  procuring 
I.  The  officer  in- 
)remptory,  and  on 
kd  not  the  money, 
Brved  a  writ  upon 
>8ary  to  secure  the 
being  made  away 

store  of  Mr.  Wil- 
1^  furniture  of  his 
ion,  and  himself 
I,  beggared.    The 

inid  put  forth,  by 
abroad,  or  other- 
lie  fugitives,  until 
E*ather  fieaupres^ 


mrsTCAiBS  ov  A  ooinrsHT* 


149 


slBliton  Bovge,  informing  him  of  the  arrival,  at  that 
plaoe,  of  Mr.  Prentiss,  together  with  a  young  roan 
and  his  wife,  both  of  foreign  features,  who  werePro« 
tsstantt,  however,  and  inmates  of  his  family,  but 
sbout  whom  he  could  learti  nothing.  From  the  de« 
icription  given  of  their  persons,  nevertheless,  the  Fa- 
ther Qeueral  became  convinced  that  they  were  the 
foKitives,  and  immediately  wrote  to  his  correspond- 
ent at  B&ton  Rouge,  stating  his  conviction  on  the 
subject,  and  requiring  the  priest  there  to  give  him 
constant  information  of  their  movements,  and  to 
learn  all  he  could  about  them.  Such,  howeyer.  was 
the  high  respectability  of  their  protector,  and  his 
s&d  their  own  yigilance,  as  they  knew  that  they 
would  be  watched,  and  their  lives  be  in  jeopardy, 
that  neither  the  General  nor  his  subordinate  ever 
dared  to  do  anght  against  them,  or  to  their  injury. 


;if 


>    f!' 

Ml/ 


CHAPTER  XXVin. 

Growing  abuse  of  power  by  the  Mother  Superior— The  F^ 
ther  Oeneral  resolves  to  remove  her  by  a  violent  death 
^The  Mother  Superior  determines  on  a  similar  fate  for 
him— Double-dealing  of  Sister  Martina— By  here^mg- 

S rated  repor'cs  of  the  Father  General's  intrigues  wiw 
e  nuns,  the  Mother  Superior  wrought  up  to  a  state  of 
frenzy— Fiendish  exultation  of  Martina  at  the  success 
of  her  scheme — ^I'he  instruments  of  death— Soliloquy 
and  prayer  of  the  Mother  Superior— Change  in  her  de* 
portment 

Mbaitwhilb,  the  Mother  Frances  was  becoming 
more  and  more  inyoWed  in  difficulty  as  regarded  the 
administration  of  rule  in  the  Convent  of  Annanoia* 
tioQ.  The  nuns  were  turbulent  and  rebellious.  The 
Father  General  received,  from  his  private  agents  in 
the  establishment,  accounts  of  the  tyranny  and  op« 
pression  of  the  Mother  Superior ;  but,  as  yet,  nothing 
had  been  done  by  her,  which  would  afford  him  the 
opportunity  for  which  he  had  so  long  waited— no* 
wmg  that  woidd  joitify  her  removal  or  degrad«tioo« 


KO 


mrSTEBIXS  OF  A  coxmsNT. 


At  leugth,  wearied  out,  and  his  patience  exhaust* 
ed,  for  he  was  frequently  called  upon  to  visit  the 
convent,  and  to  interpose  his  authority  for  the  ad- 
justment  of  the  difficulties  which  daily  arose  between 
the  ruler  and  the  ruled,  he  at  last  determined  to  take 
the  matter  into  his  own  hands,  and  to  adopt  a  course 
which  would  accomplish  the  desired  end,  without 
leaving  any  possibility  of  disagreeable  consequences 
to  himself.  In  short,  he  determined  to  hasten  the 
departure  of  the  good  Mother  from  the  scene  of  her 
tribulation  and  trial,  and  to  place  her  in  a  situation 
to  be  canonized  as  a  saint ;  rightly  believing  that  the 
nuns  of  the  Convent  of  the  Annunciation  would 
much  rather  worship  her  as  a  saint,  enrolled  among 
the  departed  worthies  whose  names  are  so  numer- 
ous among  the  devotees  of  the  Catholic  church,  than 
obey  her  as  a  tyrant  on  earth ;  and  that  once  out  of 
the  way,  no  particular  inquiry  would  be  made  by 
the  inmates  of  the  convent,  as  to  the  mode  of  her 
death ;  while  her  friends  and  admirers  abroad  could 
be  puf  off  with  any  plausible  tale.  Having  arrived 
at  this  amiable  conclusion,  the  Oeneral  only  awaited 
a  fitting  opportunity ;  and  for  this  he  did  not  wait 
very  long. 

The  Mother  Superior,  on  her  part,  however,  had 
strangely  enough  arrived  at  a  determinatiou,  not 
less  full  of  good  intention  and  of  canonization  for  the 
Father  General,  than  his  for  her.  She  had  become 
apprized,  in  due  time,  not  only  of  what  had  taken 
place  between  the  General  and  the  deceased  Sister 
Theresa;  but  through  Sister  Martina,  whom  the 
former  had  unwittingly  offended,  and  who,  at  once, 
to  avenge  herself  upon  the  (General,  and  to  mortify 
and  annov  the  Mother  Superior,  concealed  nothing 
of  what  she  knew  to  have  transpired,  for  years  pasf^ 
in  the  history  of  his  connection  with  the  nuns  of  the 
Qonvent,  the  Superior  had  learned  all  about  his  in- 
trigues and  ooquettinga  with  the  fair  sisterhood. 
^or  had  the  statement  made  to  her  been  one  of  plain, 
onvaroiahed  f aoti^bathad  been  greatly  exaggerated. 


mrsTsuiES  OF  ▲  oontent. 


151 


Sister  IK^artina  told  her  that  the  Father  General 
never  visited  the  conveut,  without  spending  a  por« 
tion  of  his  time  in  the  room  of  this  or  of  that  nun  ; 
that  he  sometimes  met  them  in  the  garden,  and  some- 
times received  visits  from  them  in  his  own  room  ; 
that  she  had  more  than  once  gone  to  the  door  of  the 
latter,  when  she  knew  that  he  had  a  nun  with  him, 
and,  putting  her  ear  to  the  key-hole,  had  listened  to 
their  whispering  conversation,  and  had  overheard 
remarks  made  about  her,  that  were  of  the  most  of- 
fensive character.  Indeed,  the  Sister  Martina,  in 
these  conversations  with  the  Mother  Superior,  spar- 
ed not  her  imagination,  but  delighted  to  draw  large- 
ly upon  it,  while  she  rejoiced  in  her  very  heart  at 
the  writhings  of  her  listener,  as  the  poison  of  jea- 
lousy and  hatred  diffused  itself  through  her  aark 
and  malignant  soul.  With  all  the  self-possession  of 
the  Mother  Superior,  the  workings  of  her  mind 
would  betray  themselves— would  speak  out  from  her 
countenance,  as  the  blood  boiled  in  her  veins,  and 
thoughts  and  purposes  of  vengeance  sprang  up,  cla- 
morous for  execution. 

Sister  Martina  had,  by  her  address,  wormed  her- 
self into  the  confidence  of  the  Father  General,  and 
had  made  herself  necessary  to  his  purposes.  She 
was,  in  fact,  at  that  very  time,  carrying  on  for  him 
an  intrigue  with  a  young  and  handsome  nun  in  the 
convent,  who  had  but  recently  taken  the  vows  of  the 
order,  and  who  was  one  of  the  converts  from  Pro- 
testantism, made  out  of  the  family  of  boarding  pu- 
I'ils.  This  intrigue  she  did  not  hesitate  to  commu- 
nicate to  the  Mother  Superior— and  to  apprise  her 
that,  on  that  day  week,  Sister  Paulina  had  consent- 
ed to  see  file  Father  General,  in  the  garden  of  the 
convent,  in  a  pretty  little  summer-house  that  had 
been  erecfted  about  a  year  before,  and  was  now  co- 
hered thickly  with  clematis  and  other  pretty  vines  in 
fall  bloom;  theliour  of  their  meeting  to  be  mid- 
night  Thiinking  lier  for  the  information,  the  Mo« 


'  •  i 


,....,.* 


162 


inrSTEBXBS  09  k  <H>inrEKT. 


ther  Superior  kissed  the  Sister  Martina,  with  great 
apparent  affection,  and,  biddin^i^  her  be  discreet,  and 
say  nothing  to  the  General  about  the  oonyersation 
that  had  taSen  place  between  them,  dismissed  her, 
for  the  present,  saying  that  she  would  resume  it  at 
another  time* 

Sister  Martina  turned  away  with  an  expression  of 
high  satisfaction  upon  her  wrinkled  and  ugly  fea- 
tures ;  while  her  deformed  person  receded  from  the 
presence  of  her  Superior,  with  the  stealthy  tread  and 
almost  tortuous  windings  of  a  serpent ;  and,  when 
she  had  reached  her  room,  she  exclaimed  with  a 
laugh,  which  was  like  that  of  a  fiend  who  has  ac« 
oomplished  some  infernal  purpose. 

*'  Ha !  ha  I  how  the  poison  works  !  How  she 
writhed  in  my  hands,  as  I  let  loose  the  scorpions  of 
jealousy  and  rage  in  her  soul !  How  pale  she  be- 
oame,  and  then  how  flushed !  Ha !  ha !  It  does  me 
good  to  see  her  thus  tortured.  I  know  how  to  play 
with  her  feelings,  and  my  revenge  for  all  the  insults 
and  injuries  she  has  heaped  upon  me,  shall  be  to 
take  her  in  my  hand  as  I  would  a  poor  earth-worm, 
and  my  soul  shall  sate  itself  with  veuf^eance,  as  I  see 
hers  writhing  in  agony  before  me.  Thus,  too,  will 
I  have  satisfaction  for  the  insult  offered  to  me  by 
the  Father  General.  He  called  me  the  dwarfish  vir- 
gin, did  he,  when  talking  with  Sister  Pauiiua,  and 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  my  never  having  had  *  an 
offer  of  matrimony  P'  'Tis  well,  I  will  ^oad  this 
Mother  Superior  until,  driven  to  desperation,  she 
•hall  commit  some  deed  of  violence ;  and  then  will 
I  be  revenged  on  both." 

The  Mother  Superior  had  retired  to  her  oratory, 
and  there  was  engaged  in  walking  up  and  down  the 
small  room ;  her  countenance  now  deadly  pale,  as 
though  she  were  suffering  mortal  agony,  and  now 
■nffused  with  crimson,  as  though  the  feverish  blood 
would  burst  the  veins,  and  leap  forth  impatient  of 
rastntint     Violently  agitated,  she  gesticulated  an- 


,40n^^^  **  ■  ^mr>^j§ 


2CT8TBBIBS  07  A  00N7B1IT* 


1^3 


grily,  wbile  she  at  times  mattered  to  herself  words 
oi  angry  resolution  and  of  dark  md  bloody  purpose. 
At  length,  she  paused  for  a  few  moments,  and,  with 
her  fore*finger  and  thumb  supporting  her  chin  as  it 
rested  upon  them,  her  arms  folded  upon  her  bosom, 
she  stood  sternly  thinkiDg ;  then,  approaching  the 
escritoire,  she  unlocked  i^  and  drew  forth  a  short 
dagger,  enclosed  in  a  silver  sheath,  and,  taking  it 
from  the  scabbard,  felt  its  point,  with  gx^t  care,  as 
if  she  would  assure  herself  of  its  sharpness  and  readi- 
ness for  use.  Apparently  satisfied,  she  replaced  it. 
and  then,  approaching  a  small  table  on  one  side  of 
the  room,  upon  which  stood  a  beautiful  work-box, 
inlaid  with  mother  of  pearl— the  gift  of  the  Father 
(General  in  other  days— she  unlocked  it,  and  drew 
forth  a  small,  white  paper,  neatly^  f olded^jwhich,  on 
being  opened,  was  found  to  contain  a  whitish  pow- 
der. This  she  looked  at,  for  a  moment,  with  a  min- 
gled expression  of  joy  and  sadness,  and,  nutting  it 
back  into  its  receptacle,  resumed  her  walk,  from  time 
to  time,  audibly  expressing  herself  thus : 

**  'Tis  a  life  of  toil,  and  care,  and  anxiety,  at  loest: 
why  should  I  wish  to  Uyo  P 

'*  He,  whom  alone  I  have  loYcd  in  all  the  ^'orld, 
has  ceased  long  since  to  care  for  me— has  long  de- 
oeived  me— and  now,  loves  another — he  must  atone 
for  his  infidelity  to  me. 

**  His  vile  paramour  shall  perish  in  his  arms. 

**  I  will  be  avenged  l** 

Thus,  communing  with  her  own  thoughts,  she  spent 
an  hour  or  more,  and  then,  throwing  herself  upon 
her  knees  before  the  crucifix,  bent  her  head  in 
prayer  to  the  Yirg^in,  while  she  implored  '*  the  Mo- 
ther of  Gk>d"  to  aid  her  in  the  purposes  which  she 
had  formed.#  Thus  do  the  self -deluded  devotees  to 
a  soaUdestroyin£[  superstition,  insult  high  Heaven, 
by  imploring  their  objects  of  worship  to  assist  them 
in  theaooomplishmentof  themostdiabolioalof  crimes. 

Having  completed  her  orisonsi  the  arose,  oalm  and 
1      224  X 


.1 


|. 


154 


mrtfnsBiBs  ov  a  oontekt. 


tranquil,  and  went  forth  from  the  oratorji  with  firm; 
determination  written  upon  her  brow,  and  with  n 

Sladdnesa  of  manner  wnioh  did  not  fail  to  attract 
tie  attention  of  the  inmates  of  the  family,  and  wai 
reverted  to  by  more  than  one  of  them  after  the  occur* 
rence  of  events  which  transpired  within  the  next  ten 
days,  and  whose  recital  will  occupy  the  ensuing  chap. 
ter.  Indeed,  more  than  once,  during  this  interv^ 
the  attention  of  the  nuns  was  attracted  to  the  very 
peculiar  deportment  of  the  Mother  Superior,  who 
seemed,  at  tmies,  to  be  greatlv  abstracted  in  thought, 
yet  to  have  suddenly  grown  kinder  in  the  treatment 
of  those  around  her,  and  voluntarily  to  commend 
herself  to  their  regard,  by  the  reformation  of  some 
abuses,  and  the  institution  of  some  regulations  which 
CK>ndaoed  to  their  comfort. 


CHAPTEB  XXIX. 

The  Fiither  General's  visit  to  the  convent^His  conrteoui 
and  affable  reception — ^The  Mother  Superior  suddenly 
changes  her  deineanour,  and  accuses  him  of  mconsUmcy 
—He  solemnly  denies  the  accusation— 8he  reiterates  tba 
charge,  and  requests  him  to  swear,  by  the  virgin,  that 
it  is  false,  ere  she  will  believe  him— She  stabs  bini,  while 
taking  the  ontb— I'aulina,  nuother  victim  to  her  guilty 
passion,  stabbed  by  the  Mother  Superior,  in  the  arbour 
^Destroys  herselt  by  poison. 

SoiOB  eight  days  after  the  time  of  the  last  conversa- 
ticn  which  occurred  between  the  Mother  Superior 
and  Sister  Martina,  as  related  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter, the  Father  General  paid  a  visit  to  the  Convent  of 
the  Annunciation. 

He  was  received,  by  the  Superior,  with  an  unusual 
degree  of  kiudDCss  and  affability ;  an  unusual  mani- 
festation of  gratification  at  his  arrivali  which  did 
not  fail  to  attract  his  notice ;  and  when,  ou  inquiry 
of  several  of  the  nuns,  in  private,  they  informed  him 
that,  for  a  week  past,  a  remarkable  change  seemed  to 
have  oomeofer  the  spirit  of  their  rubr;  that^io 


ItYStEXUSS  OS*  A  OONVENT. 


155 


shorL  she  had  spoken  to  tHem  in  tones  of  kindliness 
—had  made  several  important  changes  in  the  estah- 
lishment,  of  her  own  accord ;  and  had,  daring  that 
time,  been  Tery  much  reserved,  it  is  true,  and  had 
worn  a  yvy  pensive  countenance,  yet  had  given  no 
fresh  occasion  for  complaint — the  General  was  sur- 
prised, yet  pleased,  ana  began  to  imagine  that,  at 
length,  without  any  effort  on  his  part,  the  Mother 
Superior  had  determined  to  change  her  policy  *  while 
he  was  not  a  little  gratified  to  thi  ik  that  he  would 
not  be  compelled,  after  all,  to  resort  to  a  mode  of  re- 
dress  which  was  really  repugnant,  even  to  bis  feel- 
ings, unscrupulous  as  he  was  in  reorard  to  the  adop- 
tion o^  means  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  ends ; 
ever  acting  upon  the  prime  motto  of  the  order,  that 
"  the  end  sanctifies  the  means." 

He  was  introduced  into  the  parlour  of  the  convent, 
where  the  nuns  and  boarding  pupils  were  assembled 
to  greet  him.  The  Mother  Superior  exerted  herself 
to  entertain  him ;  her  noble  conversational  powers 
appearing  to  be  taxed  to  their  utmost,  to  make  the 
visit  a  most  agreeable  one.  The  tea-table  was  sup- 
plied with  several  unwonted  delicacies,  which  were 
freely  shared  in  by  all  present.  Happiness  and  con- 
tentment sat,  for  the  time,  on  all  faces,  while  none 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  occasion  more  than  the  Superior. 
The  Father  General  was  surprised,  yet  deceived — 
and  sought  in  vain  to  read  the  countenance  of  the 
Superior.  She  met  his  eye  without  quailing,  and  ap- 
f  eared  to  look  upon  him  with  unusual  affection. 
Whatever  were  her  real  feelings,  they  were  so  com- 
pletely disguised  as  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  detec- 
tion. No  one  for  a  moment  dreamed  of  the  possible 
occurrence  of  anyUiing,  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours, 
which  would  filf  every  mind  with  horror,  and  cause 
even  the  dark-hearted  Martina  to  tremble  with  af- 
fright. It  was  a  scene  of  masterly  acting  on  the 
part  of  the  Superior ;  only  finding  its  counterpart  in 
thai  which  took  place  in  hex  private  parlour  and  in 


i:\ 


t\ 


P 


)  ' 


i    f 


166 


imnooss  o»  a  oouvskt. 


^ 


her  oratory;  within  the  two  or  three  hours  immedi- 
ately  succeeding  the  pleasant  interview  of  the  mem- 
bers of  tlds  numerous  family  around  the  tea-table— 
or  in  those  in  which,  at  different  periods  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  Jesuits— their  brightest  geniuses  have  ex- 
hibited the  most  perfect  control  oyer  every  thought 
and  feeling,  as  well  as  over  ever]^  phyncal  organ 
which  could  outwardly  convey  an  idea  of  what  was 
-passing  internally,  and  in  which  the  mrntle  of  fair- 
est hy pocrisv  has  been  thrown  over  the  darkest  and 
most  damnaDle  intents  and  purposes. 

Bising  from  the  tea-table,  the  Mother  Superior, 
with  her  most  graceful  and  winning  manner,  invited 
the  Father  General  to  the  private  parlour,  for  con- 
ference, as  she  said,  upon  the  affairs  of  the  convent, 
and,  preceding  him,  led  the  way  to  that  room  which 
had  witnessed  so  many  curious  interviews  between 
these  two  remarkable  characters. 

Having  entered  this  retired  apartment,  where  no 
prying  eye  could  reach  them,  the  Superior,  having 
fastened  the  door,  as  she  usually  did  when  she  had 
any  very  important  communication  to  make,  most 
courteously  invited  the  General  to  be  seated,  and, 

8 lacing  herself  by  his  side  upon  the  sofa,  took  his 
and  in  hers,  and,  in  tones  of  the  softest  note,  re- 
called images  of  the  past,  scenes  which  had  long 
gone  by,  and,  while  the  tear  stood  in  her  eye,  linger- 
ed upon  reminiscences  of  endearment  and  of  fond- 
ness which  were  common  to  them  both,  and  which, 
while  they  oast  a  sadness  upon  her  features,  touch- 
ed his  heart,  and  melted  it  into  an  unwonted  mood, 
covered  over  as  it  was  with  the  crust  of  selfishness, 
and  indurated  by  the  feelings  and  dark  purposes 
which  had  so  long  dwelt  there.  He  joined  freely  in 
the  conversation,  and  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  gra- 
tifying the  state  of  mind  into  whidi  the  Superior 
had  fallen. 

Thtti  passed  away  an  honr.  when  the  Superior 
•coaei  and|  pnahisg  aside  the  sliding  panel  which  se- 


9  hours  immedi- 
lew  of  the  mem- 
ithetea-tahle— 
nods  in  the  his- 
;eniuseB  haye  ex- 
9r  eyery  thought 
phyncal  organ 
dea  of  what  was 
e  mrntle  of  fair- 
'  the  darkest  and 

B. 

[other  Superior, 
manner,  invited 
>arlour,  forcon« 
B  of  the  convent, 
that  room  which 
erviews  hetween 

tment,  where  no 

Superior,  having 

d  when  she  had 

to  make,  most 

be  seated,  and, 

e  sofa,  took  his 

loftest  note,  re- 

h^hich  had  long 

her  eye,  linger- 

nt  and  of  fond- 

oth,  and  which, 

features,  touch- 

inwonted  mood, 

t  of  selfishness, 

dark  purposes 

joined  freely  in 

pleasure  in  gra- 

3h  the  Superior 

n  the  Superior 
panel  which  86- 


VT8TBBXE8  OF  ▲  OOHVJUMT* 


167 


parated  the  private  parlour  in  which  they  were  seat- 
ed, from  the  bed-chamber,  invited  the  General  to  vi« 
sit  her  oratory,  where  she  had.  she  said,  something 
to  show  him.  Passing  througn  the  chamber,  they 
soon  stood  in  the  room  beyond,  where,  opening  a 
small  cabinet,  she  showed  him  the  various  presents 
which  she  had  received  from  him,  from  time  to  time, 
arranged  together  upon  the  shelves.  Here  was  the 
pretty  work-box  inlaid  with  mother  of  pearl ;  a  rich- 
ly bound  breviary,  with  golden  clasps ;  a  beautiful 
crucifix  in  \yotj  ;  a  variety  of  ornaments  in  gold, 
gemmed  with  rich  jewels  ;  several  volumes  in  ele- 
gant bindings ;  and  many  abides  of  price  and  vertu ; 
all  of  which  she  seemed  to  have  treasured  up  with 
great  care,  and  ti  have  preserved  as  tokens  of  affec* 
tion.  Putting  her  arm  around  him,  and  reclining 
her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  while  she  pointed  to 
these  gifts  thus  arranged  in  their  beautiful  receptacle, 
she  said  to  him,  in  accents  which  fell  upon  his  ear 
with  peculiar  significance,  and  which  caused  him  to 
tremble,  he  knew  not  why,  yet  so  as  to  be  evident 
both  to  her  and  to  himself, —  ^ 

'*  Francois,  once  you  loved  me ;  but  now  you  love 
me  not.  The  evidences  of  your  former  affection  I 
have  gathered  together  here,  and  have  delighted  to 
look  upon  them.  It  is  pleasant  to  do  so  still,  al« 
though  that  affection  is  now  transferred  to  another, 
and  has  been  shared  with  others,  while  I  fondly 
thought  it  V  .a  all  my  own." 

**  Tou  wrong  me,  Louise,  indeed  you  do,"  replied 
the  Qeueral. 

*'Nay,  Francois,  do  not  attempt  any  longer  to  de- 
ceive me,  nor  yourself.  Tou  love  me  not.  Another, 
now  in  this  building,  has  your  affectious— you  know 
it— God  knows  it." 

**  Tis  false  as  midnight  is  remote  from  noon-day  I" 
cried  the  Jesuit. 

"  And  yet  at  midnight— but  two  hours  henoe—yon 
are  to  meet  PauUna  in  ttie  arbour  in  the  gardeu,  I9 
ttnotwr 


'  s| 


til 


'! 


i 


158 


XTSTXBIES  OF  ▲  OOlMVJfiNT* 


<*  It  it  not  80,"  replied  the  General.  << Paulina! 
Paulina!"  h^  addea,  eaddenly  assuming  a  thought- 
ful attitude,  as  if  endeayouring  to  call  some  one  to 
his  mind  whom  he  had  forgotten — "  Paulina— I  know 
no  one  of  that  name— who  is  she  ?" 

**  The  young  nun  who  hut  recently  took  the  Teil." 

*'  Ah  !  I  recollect  her  now,"  responded  the  Qen- 
eral — '*  I  recollect  her  now,  but  haye  neyer  seen  her 
since  the  day  upon  which,  in  the  chapel,  she  assum- 
ed the  religious  habit.  Who  can  haye  told  you  that 
I  was  to  meet  her  in  the  garden  to-night  P" 

**  No  matter  who  told  me,"  said  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior, **  if  it  be  not  so.  Tou  know  how  I  loyed  you 
—with  what  rare  affection.  It  is  no  wonder  that  I 
should  be  jealous,  when  I  am  conscious  that  I  grow 
old,  and  that  my  attractions  are  not  what  they  once 
were.  But  no  matter— if  you  are  sincere  in  what 
you  haye  just  said— if  you  really  are  not  pledged  to 
meet  Paulina  in  the  arbour  to-night,  at  midnight, 

glace  your  hand  upon  that  crucifix,  and  swear,  by 
lie  Virgin,  that  it  is  not  so ;  and  I  will  belieye  you, 
and  loye  you  with  all  my  heart's  deepest  loye." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  the  Jesuit  ap- 
proached the  crucifix,  and,  standing  with  his  back 
towards  the  Mother  Superior,  placed  his  baud  upou 
the  symbol  of  his  faith,  and  made  the  solemn  decla- 
ration of  his  undiyided  attachment  to,  and  affection 
for,  her. 

Meanwhile,  as  he  had  adyanced  to  the  crucifix, 
and  while  his  hand  was  placed  upon  it,  the  Superior 
bad  drawn  forth,  from  her  bosom,  the  dagger  whose 
point  she  had  examined  with  such  care  a  few  days 
before,  and,  stepping  uo  quietly  behind  him,  just  as 
he  pronounced  the  words— 

*''  I  call  upon  thee,  most  Holy  Mother  of  God,  to 
witness  that  I  love  Louise,  and  Louise  on  earth—" 

She  plunged  the  dagger  to  his  heart,  crying,  as  she 
did  so— 

"  Perjured  wiretch  I  die,  and  go  to  perdition^  wit]^ 


inrernsBZES  of  ▲  qostbst. 


159 


ih«  damning  falsehood  yet  trembling  upon  thy  lip, 
Q0|  reap  the  abmidant  hanreBt  of  your  falsehooa  and 
treachery,  in  the  regionsof  eternal  infamy  and  woe  P 

'With  a  cry  of  mortal  a^ony,  the  Father  General 
fell  to  the  floor,  suddenljr  turning  half  round,  as  the 
weapon  penetrated  his  vitale,  so  as  to  fall  not  u]^ 
his  face,  but  upon  his  side ;  and  the  blow,  having 
been  but  too  fatally  aimed  at  his  heart,  a  convulsive 
throe  or  two  ensued,  and  Louise  stood  alone,  there 
in  her  oratory,  with  the  dead  body  of  Francois  Ja« 
bert  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  crucifix,  upon  which  he 
had  but  the  moment  before  perjured  himself. 

Louise,  the  Mother  Superior,  drew  from  her  pocket 
a  handkerchief,  with  which  she  carefully  wiped  the 
blade  of  the  dagger ;  and  then,  replacing  the  latter  in 
its  sheath,  and  throwing  the  handkerchief  upon  the 
floor,  she  stood  for  a  few  momenta  with  her  arms 
folded,  looking  down  upon  the  dead  body,  and  tiioi 
exclaimed — 

*'  If  there  be  an  hereafter,  Francois  Jnbert,  you 
are  now  in  perdition,  and  I  am  avenged  for  the 
wrongs  you  have  done  me.  Two  hours  more,  and 
she,  whom  you  would  have  ruined,  this  night,  ai 
you  have  ruined  me,  will  bo  in  eternity  too  !  I,  too, 
shall  quietly  follow.  The  morning's  sun  will  arise 
to  see  us  pale  and  ghastly,  and  to  tell  to  the  world 
the  story  of  woman's  love, of  woman's  revenge! 
Francois^  I  will  soon  be  with  you." 

So  saying,  she  turned  away,  locking  the  door  of 
the  oratory  behind  her,  as  she  entered  the  bed-cham« 
ber,  and  throwing  herself  upon  the  bed,  remained 
quietly  there  until  the  convent  clock  told  the  hour  of 
midnight. 

Arising  from  her  couch,  she  threw  a  cloak  around 
her,  and,  drawing  the  hood  over  her  head,  passed 
through  the  private  parlour,  carefully  locking  the 
door,  and  groping  her  way  along  the  corridor,  and 
down  the  great  stairway  until  reaching  the  back 
dooir,  ahe  went  out  into  the  dark  night,  and  stealth* 


i 


'H,fJ 


160 


UIBTEJUXS  OV  ▲  OOWBIIT* 


ily  adTaneed  to  the  gardeo.  Here  ebe  found  the  gate 
doted ;  and,  rightly  supponing  that  no  one  as  yet  had 
passed  before  her,  she  entered,  and  hastened  to  the 
arbour.  Here,  listening  for  a  moment  to  ascertain  if 
any  one  were  there,  she  entered,  and,  taking  her  seat, 
awaited  the  coming  of  the  Sister  Paulina. 

The  arbour  was  constructed  of  lattice  work,  with 
large  ii^terrals,  but  was  so  thickly  overgrown  with 
dematis  and  other  running  Tines,  as  that  whatever 
little  light  was  emitted  from  the  stars  was  entirely 
esduded,  and  all  was  darkness  within.  Tet,  as  the 
•ntranoea  were  at  either  end,  one  seated  within  could 
Tery  distinctly  recognize  the  person  of  him  or  her 
who  shonld  seek  to  enter. 

The  Superior  had  not  been  long  seated  before  a 
light  step  was  heard  advancing  towards  the  arbour ; 
and  presently  she  distinguished  the  figure  of  the  Sis- 
ter Paulina  peering  into  the  darkness,  as  if  endea* 
Touring  to  ascertain  if  any  one  were  there. 

**  I  will  seat  mjrself  for  a  while,"  she  said,  **  until 
lie  oomes.    He  will  be  here  presently." 

80  saying,  she  entered,  and  seated  herself  directly 
opposite  to  the  Superior,  who,  having  previously 
drawn  forth  the  same  dagger  which  she  had  used,  a 
short  time  before,  for  the  destruction  of  the  Father 
General,  suddenly  sprang  forward,  and,  seizing  the 
trembling  girl,  before  she  had  time  to  scream  or  to 
make  the  least  resistance,  plunsed  the  weapon  into 
her  bosom,  exclaiming,  as  she  did  so — 

**  Die,  base  wanton  ;  I  am  the  Mother  Superior/* 

The  poor  girl  was  not  instantly  killed ;  and  the 
Superior,  finding  this  to  be  the  case,  gave  her  two 
auooessive  stabs  with  the  sharp  instrument,  before 
•ignt  of  life  ceased  to  be  exhibited ;  then,  throwing 
down  the  weapon,  by  the  side  of  the  dead  body,  she 
left  the  arbour,  and,  regaining  the  building,  went  up 
tfaifs  to  her  chamber ;  leaving  the  door,  leading  di« 
feetiT  into  it,  unlocked.  Going  to  a  table  upon 
^bidi  stood  1^  docanteir  o|  w«t9r  and  a  ^blet,  nhp 


l^mrBBIES  OF  A  CONTENT. 


161 


took  from  her  bosom  the  folded  paper,  which  she 
had  looked  at  iu  her  oratory,  a  few  days  before  ; 
and  pouriuff  its  conteDts  into  the  water,  she  drank 
the  poisoned  liquid,  without  pausing  or  hesitation. 
Then,  Iviug  down  upon  her  couch,  she  composed 
her  limbs  decently,  and  soon  fell  into  a  lethargy, 
from  the  efiFects  of  the  poisonous  drug  she  had  swaU 
lowed.      Anon  the  potion  begun  to  work  its  deadly 
ofElce ;  and,  ere  the  light  of  morning  dawned  on  the 
conyent,  the  Mother  Superior,  burdeued  with  all  her 
crimes,  was  summoned  into  the  preseuce  of  her  Maker. 
Thus  perished,  by  her  own  hand,  this  extraordin« 
ary  woman,  who,  had  she  been  earljr  trained  up  in 
the  principles  of  a  pure  and  holy  religious  life^  might 
haye  become  an  ornament  to  her  sex.    Depnyed,  in 
early  life,  '^f  the  care  and  attention  of  her  mother, 
and  subjected  to  the  stem  and  almost  unparental 
temper  and  disposition  of  her  father,  she,  no  doubt, 
early  imbibed  some  of  those  incipient  traits  of  char* 
aotcor  which  so  awfully  marked  her  future  guilty  ca- 
reer.   And  then,  another  important  ad  j  unct  in  smo- 
thering her  better  feelings  was,  the  circumstance  of 
her  being  subjected,  in  the  days  of  her  youth,  to  be 
a  sufferer  from  the  direful  eyeots  which  oyerspread 
her  unhappy  country,  during  the  reign  of  terror  that 
marked  the  French  reyolution.      But    the  great 
source  from  whence  sprung  the  turbid  streams  which 
blackened  and  defiled  her  future  life,  was  unques- 
tionably to  be  traced  to  the  souUdestroyiug  dogmas 
and  yile  superstition  which  so  peculiarly  character- 
ize the  Bomish  system.    She  was  undoubtedly  a  wo- 
man of  strong  passions ;  and,  for  the  accomplishment 
of  her  parposes,«and  the  attainment  of  any  object 
she  had  bent  her  mind  upon,  no  obstacle  appeared 
too  difficult  for  her  to  surmount,  nor  any  crime  too 
lieinous  for  her  to  perpetrate,  so  that,  by  so  doing, 
she  might  be  enabled  to  gratify  her  pride,  her  lust; 
and  her  ambition.  To  rule  and  domineer  oyer  others 
^M  hif  d«rlin$  object ;  and  W09  b^  to  thi^  daring 


\ 


162 


1RBTBBXB8  OV  ▲  OOAVBITf* 


IndiTidoal  who  called  in  qaettion,  or  endeaToni^ 
to  thwart,  h«r  aatbority !  No  lubtlety  or  oannint?^ 
eoold  oiroumTent  her  Tigilanoe.  She  was  a  thoroop^b 
Jesoit;  and  duplicity  and  subterfuge  were  allioi 
which  she  bad  oyer  ready  at  commaud,  to  assist  her 
in  any  nefarious  project  on  which  her  mind  was 
bent.  In  short,  she  was  a  fit  instrument  to  carry 
out  the  great  object  which  Popery  has  oyer  aimed 
to  accomplish,  namely,  to  increase  the  number  of  its 
deluded  victims,  howeyer  base  and  dishonourable 
the  means  employed  to  accomplish  that  object,  and 
to  destroy  heretics,  and  every  other  obstacle  that  op- 
posed  the  success  of  this  unholy  design. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Alarm  and  consternation  in  the  conyent— Dtsoorery  of  the 
dead  bodies— The  bodies  of  the  Mother  Superior  and  Sis- 
ter Paulina  laid  in  the  same  grave — All  efforts  to  eluci- 
date the  mystery  in  vain— The  oflBces  of  Father  Qeneral 
and  Mother  Superior  filled  up — Partial  revelations  and 
suspicions  of  the  dying  Sister  Martina--01osing  remarks. 

Qbbat  was  the  consternation,  the  next  morning,  in 
theoonyent,  when,  after  matins,  from  which  the 
niiT>8  missed  both  the  Father  General  and  the  Mo- 
ther Superior,  as  well  as  the  Sitter  Paulina— a  ser- 
Tant  went  to  the  room  of  the  Superior,  and  found 
her,  after  ineffectually  knocking  at  the  door,  stretch- 
ed lifeless  upon  her  bed ;  her  very  handsome  features 
wearing  a  very  slight  iindication  of  a  momentary 
pang  of  pain. 

The  seryant  was  horror-struck  at  what  she  beheld, 
and  soon  raised  the  alarm,  by  her  cries,  when  the 
room  was  ouickly  thronged  by  the  astonished  and 
terror-stricken  nuns,  who,  gazing  at  the  corpse,  and 
then  in  one  another's  faces,  seemed  to  ask  of  each 
other  the  question — ^**Who  has  done  thisP'  No 
answer,  however,  was  returned :  and  all  was  envelop- 
•d  in  mystery,  perplexity,  and  fear. 

A>  Joon  as  the  ei^citement  respectinj^  the  deceased 


IfTSTBBXBS  07  ▲  OOWSZVT. 


168 


king  the  deoeased 


MotLer  Superior  wai  tomewhat  abated,  the  atten* 
tion  of  the  nuni  waa  directed  to  the  missinK  Father 
Qeneral.  Search  waa  made  for  him,  throughout  the' 
conTent,  io  eyery  room  to  which  they  couid  gain  ao- 
ceia,  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found  ;  and  they 
paye  over  their  endeayours  to  find  him,  under  the 
impression  that  he  had  left  the  conyent. 

The  anxiety  of  the  nuns,  on  account  of  the  non- 
appearance of  the  Sister  Paulina  amongst  them,  was 
not  so  great ;  as  they  imagined  she  might  be  detain- 
ed in  her  cell,  through  indisposition.  Great,  how- 
eyer,  was  the  consteruation  and  dismay  of  the  whole 
sisterhood,  when,  an  hour  or  two  after  finding  the 
body  of  the  Mother  Superior,  two  or  three  of  the 
nuns,  who  were  walking  in  the  garden,  entered  the 
arbour,  and  there  found  the  dead  body  of  Sister  Pau- 
lina, stabbed  in  three  places,  and  surrounded  by  a 
pool  of  blood.  They  were  almost  petrified  with  as- 
tonishment and  dread,  and  looked  around,  expecting 
that  some  assassin  was  lurking  near,  and  that  they 
might  probably  be  the  next  yictims.  Becoyering, 
howeyer,  from  their  stupor,  they  summoned  assist- 
ance, and  had  the  body  conyeyed  into  the  house. 

At  length,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day, 
after  they  had  interred  the  Mother  Superior  and  the 
Sister  Paulina,  and  that  most  strangely  too«  in  the 
yery  same  graye,  it  occurred  to  some  of  the  nuns 
that  they  had  not  looked  iuto  the  oratory.  This  they 
found  locked;  but,  on  breaking  into  the  room,  how 
they  were  shocked  to  discoyer  the  lifeless  form  uf  the 
Father  General  upon  the  fioor,  lying  at  the  foot  of 
the  beautiful  crucifix.  Every  thing  in  this  room,  as 
in  the  bed-chamber  and  in  the  private  parlour,  wore 
an  air  of  intense  repose*  There  were  no  signs  of 
yiolenoe,  or  of  mortal  struggle  between  contending 
]>artie8.  Who  could  haye  perpetrated  the  dark  deeds 
which  met  the  g^e  of  the  nuns,  and  of  the  priests 
who  had  been  summoned  to  their  aid,  in  the  oratory, 
the  bed-ehamber,  and  the  arbouir  iu  the  garden  f 


164 


H'lSTAUXES  09  ▲  OOKVXNT* 

i 


It  was  a  mysteiT  wlifoh  none  conld  unravel*  And, 
takinfif  into  oonBiaeration  the  high  poeition  of  at 
least  two  of  the  parties— the  head  of  the  order  of 
Jesuits  in  the  United  States — the  Superior  of  the 
Convent  of  AnDunciatiou— there  was  a  daring  at- 
tached to  the  perpetrator  of  the  deed,  which  showed 
that  the  assassin  was  of  no  common  order. 

Every  nun,  every  iomate  of  the  family,  was  care- 
fully and  most  rigidly  scrutinized,  questioned,  and 
cross-questioned,  but  all  in  vain:  nobody  knew 
aught  about  it,  save  those  who  had  been  actors  in 
tiiat  dreadful  tragedy,  and  they  were  past  being 
questioned.  Sadness  and  gloom  fell  upon  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  convent.  The  suite  of  rooms,  hitherto 
appropriated  to  the  Mother  Superior,  were  carefully 
locked  up— everything  remaining  just  as  she  left  it, 
and  continued  so  for  years. 

The  place  vacated  by  the  death  of  the  Father  Gen- 
eral was  duly  filled— that  of  the  Mother  Superior 
was  also  supplied— the  dead  had  been  buried  and 
well*nigh  forgotten,  when,  at  length,  the  Sister  Mar* 
tina  came  to  lie  upon  her  death-bed ;  and,  consci- 
ence prompting  her,  she  sent  for  the  then  Silperior 
of  the  convent,  and  related  to  her  the  events,  in  the 
life  of  her  predecessor,  with  which  the  dying  nun 
stood  in  anywise  connected ;  the  conversations  which 
had  taken  place  between  the  Mother  Frances  and 
herself;  her  jealousy  and  writhings  under  the  feel- 
ings which  the  conduct  of  the  Father  General  had 
awakened  in  her  bosom  ;  and  the  suspicious  that 
were  aroused  in  the  mind  of  Sister  Martina,  on  the 
discovery  of  the  dead  bodies,  that  the  Mother  Frances 
herself  was  the  murderer  of  the  General,  of  the  nuu, 
and  then  had  taken  poison  to  destroy  her  own  life. 

There  seemed,  to  the  Mother  Superior,  to  whom 
this  relation  was  made,  but  too  much  ground  to  be- 
lieve that  it  was  as  the  dying  nun  tuspeoted ;  but, 
bejrond  these  8uspioioii%  there  waa  but  uttle  positive 
OTidenpe  of  any  fcin4f 


mnsTBBXEs  ot  ▲  ooinrnKV. 


165 


The  threats  uttered  ai^ainst  Julia  Moreton,  as  re- 
corded in  another  portion  of  this  work,  and  their 
fulfilment,  will,  together  with  the  events  transpiring 
in  the  life  of  Pietro  di  Lodetti  and  his  wife,  snhse- 

Suent  to  their  settlement  in  Louisiana,  afford  mate- 
ial  for  a  continuation  of  the  story,  should  the  re- 
ception of  that  which  is  now  given  to  the  puhlic,  he 
such  as  to  induce  the  writer  to  venture  upon  a  se- 
cond application  of  his  pen  to  a  sort  of  composition 
to  which  it  has  heen  hitherto  a  stranger.  He  does 
not  pretend  to  say  that  any  of  the  personap^es  of  this 
drama  are  real,  nor  any  of  the  events  which  he  has 
recorded  are  true ;  but  he  does  believe  that  events, 
not  wholly  dissimilar,  have  occurred,  and  may  occur 
again.  He  does  believe  that  the  true  spirit  of  Jesuit-i 
ism  has  been  portrayed ;  and  that  dark,  and  forbid- 
ding, and  abhorrent,  as  may  be  the  picture,  it  but 
too  faithfully  depicts  thepnoeiples  and  practices  of 
an  order  which  requires  vows  of  poverty,  chastity, 
and  obedience,  only  wi  order  to  wealth,  to  impunity, 
and  to  sensual  indu^^^ence—to  the  subversion  of  ci« 
vil,  religious,  and  intellectual  liberty,  and  to  the  sub- 
stitution of  an  iron  oppression  and  a  bloody  super- 
stition. He  has,  in  short,  written  his  story  in  as 
strong  terms  as  he  was  capable  of,  in  order  to  sym- 
boliie  that  which  cannot  be  too  darkly  or  too  strong- 
ly coloured,  and  in  reference  to  which,  after  all  that 
has  or  can  be  imagined  of  it,  it  may  still  be  affirmed 
that  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction. 


CONCLUSION. 

Bommary— Lessons  to  be  gained  from  a  right  use  of  the 
narratlTe— The  duty  of  parents— Caations  to  young  per* 
sons— Connection  between  Popery  and  infidelity— Sure 
down&U  of  error  and  superstition— Earnest  entreaty  to 
embrace  the  truth. 

hr  reviewing  the  foregoiof^  narrative,  the  reader 
may  psoroeive  some  very  unportant  lessons.  The 
fizBt  ii^  that|  when  we  sustain  the  responsible  office 


IM 


imrxBIES  OV  A  OOHVBHT. 


1 

\ 


of  parentty  we  ahoold  be  very  oaref  al  in  the  trainiop; 
and  oultore  of  the  minds  of  the  children  committed 
to  our  care.  The  second,  that  the  impressionB  we 
imbibe  in  the  days  of  oar  childhood  ana  youth,  have 
madh  to  do  with  oar  career  in  after-life.  The  third, 
that  we  shoald  be  very  caatioua  how  we  give  ear  to 
those  who  are  ever  ready  to  instil  into  onr  minds  er- 
roneoas  and  pernicious  principles  and  tenets,  which, 
if  fostered  and  cherished,  may,  eventually,  peril  the 
safety  of  our  never-dying  souls.  There  are  other 
important  lessons  to  be  gained  by  the  careful  per- 
asal  and  diligent  study  of  this  narrative ;  but  these, 
for  the  present,  shall  suffice  for  the  purpose  of  a 
short  comment. 

There  are  few  parents  bnt  wish  the  temporal  and 
eternal  welfare  of  their  offspring ;  and  yet,  now  often 
is  it  the  case  that,  from  a  mistaken  policy  or  want  of 
proper  judgment,  the  course  they  take  for  the  at- 
Cainment  of  the  object  they  have  at  heart,  is  the  cue 
diametrically  opposed  to  the  accomplishment  of  their 
wishes.  This  has  been  ezem;>IMed  in  several  in- 
stances in  the  course  of  this  nai  '  Tn.  Parents,  who 
bad  a  conscientious  dread  of  tt  *  ^vils  of  Popery, 
yet,  without  seriously  reflecting  on  the  step  they 
were  taking,  have  placed  their  children  in  the  very 
vortex  of  the  evils  thev  most  dreaded.  Beware,  then, 
I  say  again,  parents,  now  you  act  in  regard  to  the 
training  and  culture  of  those  who  are  dear  to  you. 

But  what  shall  I  say  to  those  who  are  in  the  morn- 
ing of  life  P— whose  prospects  are  bright  and  glowing 
with  fancied  happiness  in  store  for  their  future 
years?  You  have  not  yet  began  to  experience  the 
realities  of  life ;  bat,  be  assured,  those  realities  will 
be  dark  and  troublesome,  or  bright  and  cheering,  ac- 
oording  as  yoa  commence  your  career  in  life's  lour- 
ney.  You  are  surrounded  by  temptations ;  ana  one 
false  step  may  be  productive  of  incalculable  misery 
in  this  world,  and  everlasting  woe  in  another.  Store, 
then,  your  youthful  n^ods  with  the  trathi  of  God's 


irrSTEKtES  OF  ▲  OONVEKT. 


167 


word ;  these  will  guide  and  direct  you  in  the  devious 
path  whioh  yuu  may  have  to  tread ;  and  will  pre- 
yent  you  from  listening,  with  a  willing  ear,  to  the 
wily  •ophistry  of  those  who  would  endeavour  to  lead 
you  asteay  from  the  path  of  rectitude  and  truth, 
into  the  way  that  ends  in  destruction,  misery,  and 
eternal  death. 

The  present  age  is  peculiarly  remarkable  for  the 
strenuous  bzertions  which  the  enemies  of  the  pure 
and  unadulterated  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  are  mak< 
ing  to  bring  discredit  upon  its  divine  doctrines  and 
precepts.  Infidelity  (and  I  consider  the  Romish 
superstitions  as  nearly  assimilated  to  infidelity  as 
any  false  system  can  be)  is  openly  and  unblushingly 
advocated  m  the  ears  of  congregated  thousands  of 
our  fellow-creatures.  There  are  Jesuits^ — not  be- 
longing to  the  Bomish  system  orly, — going  about 
the  length  and  breadth  of  our  land,  striving  to  pro- 
pagate their  soul-destroying  principles,  and  imbue 
the  minds  of  the  ignorant  and  unwary  with  error, 
superstition,  and  unbelief.  But  what  avail  P  All 
their  puny  efforts  will  be  abortive,  and  will  recoil 
upon  their  own  heads. 

Wlio,  that  have  read  the  foregoing  pages,  but  must 
shudder  at  the  harrowing  scenes  and  the  dreadful 
acts  therein  portrayed  P— And  these  are  the  conse- 
quences of  the  blind  implicit  faith  in  a  system  re- 
pugnant to  the  genius  of  Christianity.  Koman  Ca- 
tholicism, as  it  is  believed  and  i)ractised  in  most  of 
the  monasteries  and  convents,  is  a  system  that  is 
fraught  with  the  grossest  delusions,  and  pregnant 
with  the  most  calamitous  results  to  those  who  believe 
in  its  fallacious  doctrines.  Many  who  have  held 
high  places  in  the  Catholic  church,  in  past  ages,  have 
been  tfiined  with  the  blackest  crimes ;  and,  even  in 
the  present  day,  there  are  dignitaries  in  that  church, 
on  tne  continent  of  Europe,  whose  lives  and  conduct 
ais  as  different  from  the  lives  and  conduct  of  the 
Apostles,  as  Ught  is  from  darkness.    I  would  not  bo 


168 


UTSTBBtES  OF  A  OONVENT. 


anobaritable,  and  denounce  all  who  are  connected 
with  that  denominatioti.  There  are  good  men  to  be 
found  amongst  that  body ;  but,  taken  as  a  whole, 
the  great  majority  are  designing,  base,  hypocritical, 
and  toeacherous.  But  it  is  the  system— religion  it 
can  scarcely  be  called — which  1  denounce:  it  is 
dlosely  connected  with  infidelity,  and  is  the  source 
of  more  crime  and  suffering  than  any  other  system 
that  prevails  amongst  mankind.  **  Come  out  of  her, 
then,  my  people,  and  be  ye  separate ;  touch  not  the 
unclean  thing,  lest  ye  be  defiled/' 

The  time  is  approaching,  when  Popery,  and  every 
other  false  form  of  worsnip,  shall  give  place  to  the 
genuine  and  unadulterated  worship  of  the  true  and 
Gving  Gk)d,  and  of  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ : — when 
the  mists  of  ignorance  and  superstition  shall  be 
chased  away  by  the  light  of  the  life-giving  beams  ol 
the  Word  of  Truth.  Yes,  Babylon  must  fall ;  the 
Mother  of  Harlots  must  be  brought  low ;  and  im- 
ages and  crucifixes,  and  every  other  idol,  shall  be 
oast  away ;  and  peoples  and  nations  shall  bend  the 
knlee  to  Jesus,  and  acknowledge  him  Lord  over  all, 
lE>les6ed  for  evermore !  May  all  who  read  these 
pages,  be  instrumental,  through  the  blessing  of  Al- 
mighty God,  in  hastening  that  glorious  time,  when 
the  kingdoms  of  this  world  shall  become  the  king- 
doms of  GKhI,  and  of  his  Christ. 


PitlNTBO  lOft  TOE  BQ0K8yiTiT.r»n>» 


BTTSNT* 

who  are  oonneoted  | 
are  good  men  to  be  | 
t,  taken  as  a  whole, 
,  base,  hypocritical, 
system — religion  it 
1  denounce:  it  is 
^,  and  istbeionrce 
1  any  other  system 
>  <*  Come  out  of  her, 
rate;  touch  not  the 

i  Popery,  and  every 
all  give  place  to  the 
ibip  of  the  true  and 
esus  Obrist : — when 
iperstition  shall  be 
[ife-giving  beams  of 
ylon  must  fall;  the 
>ughtlow;  andim- 
other  idol,  shall  be 
lous  shall  bend  the 
him  Lord  over  all, 
all  who  read  these 
i  the  blessing  of  Al- 
glorious  time,  when 
1  become  the  king- 


^K8BTiTfT"f- 


